No One Around
by Ennaejj
Summary: Chapter 21 up. Reveiws entice me to continue! All takes place between PB and TCOR. Thought I might try and tie together the outer events and inner leaps between the two. A story of monsters, men, and women.
1. AKA Johns

Well, it all takes place between PB and TCOR. I relied only on the information given in these two movies and their subsequent novelizations, and inconsistencies with any other media pertaining to Riddick's world is unfortunate, but will not be amended. This is an action/adventure fic. It does include a love story of sorts, but not romance. I am attempting to explain the jump from infatuated preteen Jack to scorned woman Kyra, as well as how Riddick became so attached to the _idea_ of her; preserving her and such. Also, I felt the need to tie the outer events of PB and TCOR together, and you'll see what I mean by that later... I don't really feel the need for the discretionary release of responsibility,i.e.,You can tell what's mine and what's not, other wise I don't think you'd be reading this. For fans by fans, after all.

With out further ado: **Chapter One**

* * *

"Hey, Johns?" she called from across shuttle bay 3, "What do you want me to do with these broken lamps?"

"Toss 'em," he advised, his expression and tone both indifferent. Though his voice was low and gruff, it smoothly sailed across the distance to her ears.

"Yeah, all right," she acknowledged with a nod, hefting the large, damaged mechanisms over her shoulder. Her small form sagged beneath the weight, but she was never one to complain. She left the bay, headed for the disposal shoot, with her head held high.

"You shouldn't treat _her_ like that," Imam whispered chidingly over his shoulder.

He gave the holy man a stern glance, "It's good for _his_ image," he punctuated.

If Imam was chilled by the liquid eyes, he didn't show it. "It is not proper."

"Don't talk to me about 'proper'," he warned, "We don't live in a world where there is any 'proper'."

He let him be. Imam hadn't known the imposing man for very long, but he knew enough to realize that now was not the time to talk principles. There had been time on the dark planet to discuss the workings of God, but now that the immediate danger had past, 'Johns' would have none of it.

Johns glanced ruefully at the police badge pinned to his chest. He had an overwhelming urge to rip it away and chuck it into deep space with the rest of the trash. He knew he wouldn't do it, no matter how much he fantasized about it, so he went back to his stock work. They needed to hose in at least another weeks worth of cryo-juice and replace three of the engine coolant packs before they could hit the road again. The road to New Mecca. He scoffed silently to himself.

He made sure the nozzle of the hose was securely screwed to the lip of the receiving tank. Finding no problems there, he decided to take a break. Maybe get a little bit of real sleep, the kind that doesn't freeze your bones and turn your mind to mush. He noticed Imam kneeling on a makeshift prayer mat, preparing to give more thanks. Leaving him in peace, he stalked off to the space station guest quarters they'd been assigned to.

When he arrived he sprinted to the bathroom. There he turned on the faucet and stuck his stubbled head into the stream of frigid water. His fingers worked over his scull methodically, as if trying to message away the section of his mind that was making him help them. The old him was dead, and a part of him mourned the loss. It would be so easy to make up an extra problem with the craft, tell Imam they couldn't lift off until he took care of it, then while he and the girl were sleeping take off on his own. _That_ was even more civilized than what the old him would do. The old him would have cut them open and jettisoned the bodies long before reaching the old Sigra 2 space station. After all, they were no real help to him, all they did was compromise his safety.

After a few minutes he groped around blindly for a towel. Finding one had been inexplicably set right next to him, he stood up straight, using the mirror above the sink to look behind him. There she was, sitting on the opposite counter, watching him. He dabbed his face with the clean cloth, then exited. She didn't look hurt by the lack of acknowledgment, and jumped from her perch to follow him.

"Lights down," he commanded the computer, his voice deep and resonating. When they had been struck to half-natural, he pulled the goggles resting on his forehead completely off. Striding to the bed, he threw them on the night stand and sat down. He propped his elbows on his knees, which were slightly knocked apart, and slouched stiffly.

Jack shuffled over to the corner of the mattress, flicking her fingers over the comforter shyly. His predatory eyes rounded on her, his expression stony, waiting for her to explain herself.

"I dumped the shit down the shoot," she said happily, all girlishness gone, like a boy who's built his first working engine. She scratched her bear head, eager to please.

Flopping onto his back and closing his eyes with a soft internal sigh, he left her answerless in her suspense. She moved next to him. "Riddick?"

"Hmm?" he growled.

"Where do we go after we drop Imam on Helion?"

This kid made him shiver like no merc ever could. She was a leech; a leech that would suck him dry before his prime, one that would latch on until the end of the universe if she could, one that he would feel responsible for until the day it was _his_ sweet spot some one punctured and drained out. Damn arteries, always attached to a heart.

"I was thinking I might hang around for a while, take in the sights," he said silkily.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's cool," she nodded her head furiously. Playing with the edge of the night stand absently, she bit her lip, calculating. Things had to be said carefully around Riddick. "When... When do we break for it again?"

"Give it about three hours. Enough time for those coolants to be delivered, and for me to get some sound shut eye." He hoped she'd take the hint.

"Right. 'Kay." She tuned tail and left him, strolling unconcernedly from the quarters. Once the automated doors clicked into place behind her she gasped, throwing her back to the corridor wall. She fell to pieces in his presence. She wanted so much to gain his approval. Out of all the men she'd ever met, he was the only one who's skin she aspired to walk in. He was powerful and precise. Perfectly stable, and yet questionably sane. His demeanor, so clam and collected, had a gravitating effect over her. She orbited him like an insignificant planet does a mighty star. Maybe the most attractive quality was his control, power over life and death. She wanted power, power like that. He made her feel safe and on life's brim at the same time. No one could do that. No one.

Realizing the holy man would soon miss her and come snooping around, she shook her nerves still. It would not do for Imam to see her so skittishly giddy. He disapproved tremendously of her infatuation, and had all ready suggested several times that she grow her hair out again and abandon her blacked out swimming goggles. He said there was no need to pretend any more. No need to fear being a little girl. But playing make believe gave her confidence she could never find as a normal girl. She felt like she could better take care of her self this way, whether it was a self imposed illusion or not.

She snuck back into the bay, making sure he didn't see. Maybe he wouldn't notice how long she'd been gone. Sure enough, Imam was still in his own little world. She jumped aboard the skiff, pretending to busy herself with inspections. She flicked some switches here, tapped a dead dial there. None of it meant anything to her, but she liked to think it did. Working form the tail end towards the cockpit, she soon found herself scrutinizing gauges over the pilot's seat.

With a speculative glance down the ramp and out the back, to make sure she wasn't in Imam's line of sight, she eased herself into the chair. Cautiously, as if she were afraid to set the silent craft into motion, she wound her fingers around the manual controls. She wondered what it would be like to fly, to dictate the ships movements, make it go where she wanted it to go. Closing her eyes, she gently leaned to her left, imagining the craft responding to her touch, tilting through they abyss of space.

A voice jolted her out of her day dream, "Jack?" She whirled around, and seeing that she still had a chance, leapt out of the seat and half way down the main deck. There she leaned casually against an inner partition. "Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Where is Johns? We should find him and eat before the final trappings he ordered for the skiff are delivered." He peeked in. Spying her, he smiled, "Are you hungry?"

"Famished," she informed him.

"And where has our officer gone?"

She shrugged arrogantly, "How should I know?"

He bowed his head, and with a soft laugh sighed, "Indeed."


	2. Stats

**Chapter Two**

* * *

Riddick ate no more than any other man in the dinning hall, travelers and crew alike. When a round of drinks was offered to all at the table, he and Imam were the only two to pass. After the final course had been cleared from the tables every one retired to the 'Ball Room.' The trio didn't stick around to socialize.

"Miss Slam tea," Riddick murmured absently as they strolled down the hall to their designated launching bay.

"Better than the muck they served tonight," agreed Jack, as if she knew.

"Too sweet," he nodded, playing along. Imam frowned at him; Riddick was just fueling the fire, encouraging her.

When the last bits and pieces had been installed, they strapped themselves in for take off. Jack gripped the arm wrests of the co-pilots seat tightly, preparing for the lung smashing jolt that always followed a lunch directly into space. With no atmosphere to climb through, the craft's acceleration was anything but steady. Riddick gave the thumbs up to the control deck window, and they waved back. The bay doors ground open, protesting every inch they had to slide.

"Ready for this?" He asked, his voice deceivingly soft. Not waiting for an answer, he punched it. The engines ignited and flared, propelling them through the heavy doors before they'd completely cleared. Jack let out an excited whoop, and Imam grimaced in one of the back seats.

They whipped along for a while in silence, pushing break neck speeds for that shitty little tin can they'd swiped off that all-forsaken planet. When they had first hit the shipping lane, Riddick had intended to try and get them picked up by a civilian cruiser; preferably one driven by a millionaire (who still felt he had to compensate for something with a glitter-monster of a ship) and his too-dumb-for-her-bra girl friend. The type of people who should be one their toes and alert to danger at all times, but absolutely never were because they believed their money would protect them. They'd be easy to sucker over, especially with a kid on board. He might be able to convince them to drop him some where along the way and take Jack and Imam all the way to Helion... or he could just kill and master the boat himself. But that plan had some cumbersome chinks in it, so he formulated a new one: putter along to the nearest space station, find just the right sort of degenerate, use the last of the morph shells he'd jacked form the real Johns to barter with, gain a compatible supralight drive, then install it himself. He knew he could pull that one off with out a hitch. And he did.

Riddick wasn't quite ready to chug it into supralight speed. He needed to brush up on the news. He'd been careful not to check his files on the station's comps; last thing he needed was a piggy back server to relay the info to the on campus enforcers.

Punching the touch screen, he brought up his stats. Though the Hunter Grazner had been reported as missing, he was still listed as DETAINED. He'd give it a couple more standard days before it changed to OUT. They'd never put him down as missing, too many smart people were working the boards. They knew to list him as missing was as good as giving him a free pass, even if they believed he was dead. Never under estimate a guy who's been put through the Shine.

Out of curiosity, he pulled up the summary attached to the Hunter Grazner status. He was insulted. Not even the briefest mention of his name, no suggestion that its cut out could be attributed to him. It might have been unflattering, but at least it held water. He rubbed his tongue over his teeth in distaste; too many things had been unfairly blamed on him.

He paused for a quick glare to his right. Jack's big eyes were scrutinizing his every move. He leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. "What's on your mind?"

Her eye's shifted to the back of the bus. Imam was dozing. She was free to talk to him. She didn't want to sound over eager, "Nothin'."

"Mmm," he purred, looking back to the dash. He knew what she was thinking. She was wondering just how long that rap sheet of his was. Just how many people had he killed? Just how many slams had he split from? Just how many systems was he wanted in?

He could feel the absence of conciseness in Imam. If no one was going to protest the 'improper', he was going to indulge in some fun. It was all innocent any way. "I get it," he said, "You wanna check up on yourself. Tell me, Jack," she stifled a small shiver, "What are _you_ wanted for? Kid doesn't hop a shuttle and swap gender with out a real reason to run."

She smirked. "You won't find me any where in those archives."

"Yeah, why not?"

"Cuz you don't know who to look for, and I ain't gonna tell you my real name," she crossed her arms defiantly in front of her.

"Anonymity," he mussed. "Make's it hard to get a decent Rep."

She felt brave, "Seems to me it's your Rep we're running from."

He didn't smile. The kid was sharp. Maybe too sharp. His fingers twitched unexpectedly; maybe he should make a general sweep. Female juveniles in the penal system under thirteen. He bit the inside of his lip, cursing internally. _She made him second guess himself._ No one could do that. No one. What was with this bird? He chose not to comment.

"What's it like?" she probed, "Getting a Shine?"

"It burns," he said lowly, "Burns bad. Worse than Spitfire venom. First they squirt you full of this purple stuff, makes your eyes bug out. Then they peel back the top layer and sew in these tiny yellow jems called Jaguars. Over the top of those goes a layer of mercury, only a few atoms thick. Can't use pain killers through out any of it, nulls the whole deal if you do. Right before it's over most beg for the doc to pop their corneas rather than shoot in the last of the chemicals that make it all work. Better forever blind than in that kind of pain. Pain that makes you want to stick a shiv through your own retinas. Out of the few who go under the needle, most opt-out."

He rubbed his chin, and added, "How they like to scream..."

"But you didn't," she said confidently.

He didn't answer.


	3. Grounded

Author's note: This chapter seems a little sketchy to me, and I'm not sure what I could do to make it better. Hmm... let me know if it's just me, or if it really does feel sticky.

**Chapter Three

* * *

**

They could see a large blue planet looming up before them. A perfectly happy looking place, with scattered settlements visible through the pristine atmosphere, small, green oceans off setting the cobalt rock, and a good sized single sun a reasonable distance away. It was rotating incredulously slowly; Riddick estimated the average day as 72 standard hours. 

He said nothing about it, so she didn't.

As they edged closer, Riddick snapped the craft's nose up and to the right, making sure to give the planet's gravity plane a wide girth. The dramatic angle change made everything shift. Something slipped out from beneath Jack's seat and slid all the way to the shuttle doors, smashing into them and shattering. Riddick's neck snapped his head around with a grotesque pop. A splatter of fluorescent aqua blue smeared the tail end of the craft.

"Shit," she breathed, bowing her head, her eyes downcast.

"Jack?" he asked, warning her not to try and beat around the bush.

The sound of glass breaking had jolted Imam awake. He blinked sleepily, his eyes roaming unfocused around him. "What? What has happened? What was..?"

"Jack," Riddick insisted. He kept his gaze focused on the contents of the now demolished rum bottle that had been dislodged from beneath her. The glowing chunks began to wiggle.

"I forgot, okay?" she spat offensively.

"Not okay," he asserted through his teeth. "I said we'd take nothing off that damn rock. _Nothing_. If there was anything left, _you_ were supposed to take care of it. You were supposed to sweep out the skiff."

His disappointed, accusatory tone stung her. She shrank into her shell and stared blankly away from him.

"Great," he growled, reaching for the com-link, "One more pit stop."

Imam's hands groped at the latch that secured his safety restraints. "Don't move," Riddick ordered, "Don't got time or patience enough for a preemptive clean up job, all right? We're taking her down. Let the locals lap up the maggots. I won't ride with those another parsec."

He rotated the radio dials, trying to pick up on the planet's open frequency. Through the squeaks and the static he found it. He brought the transmitter close to his lips, "Any one out there?"

"They're just glow worms," Jack grumbled, almost inaudibly.

He turned to her and said sharply, "I don't care."

A high pitched shriek came from the receiver, signaling some one from the surface joining them on line, making all three wince. "Yes. Identify and state your purpose."

"Stop over," he replied, mockingly amused, "Picnic. Officer Lawrence Johns," he took a cursory glanced at the holobadge, "System code 394-12375-9999. Personal code 7-8923-9918." He wasn't confident in those numbers, after all, Johns was a merc. Fake badge, fake codes.

He heard a positive beep in the back ground. "Was that Officer _Johns_ or _John_?" asked the voice on the other end.

"What ever it says in the file," he replied casually, trying to seem unconcerned enough to joke.

"Right," the man said pleasantly. "All righty. Identify passengers and relations."

"One man, forty one," He waited for Imam to mouth his home planet to him, he shrugged a little at the response. He thought it was just a pilgrimage, "Current resident of Helion Prime. One boy, just turned twelve, same system I'm from. That's it."

"Relationships," he repeated.

He hesitated, then, "Kid's my sister's, man's just a friend."

Jack raised an eyebrow. He winked at her, taking the transmitter away from his mouth, "Half sister."

"All looks good from here," the voice said tentatively, prematurely all most, like he was checking for the okay from his superiors. He got it, "Yep. Give me a moment to triangulate the appropriate coordinates for you. You'll be docking in the morning."

The decent was easy. Riddick was careful to hold the craft as level as permitted, attempting to keep the creepy crawlies where they were. Shards of glass slid back and forth, clinking forbodingly. The sound was eerily reminiscent of the fateful clickity- click the night fliers had made. The closer the ground came, the more Riddick pursed his lips. That was no vacationer's hanger on the horizon. Crisp lines, harsh reflective metal, deep run way... not for the average tourist. Not military, no, but government run.

There was a split second where he had to make his final decision: face what ever accusations lay on the surface, or spend a week in cryo-sleep with those bugs. He chose the men over the beasts.

They glided smoothly into the hanger. Riddick was gentle with the touch down, slipping tamely into place, slick as silk. As soon as the engines died, men swarmed around the battered skiff, blasters at the ready.

"Party's over," Riddick said, placing his goggles securely over his eyes, then throwing open his harness and thrusting himself from the chair.

"So soon?" Jack asked, cocky, and confident that she was about to see a major ass whooping. Twelve to one, and Riddick would stand victorious; she played the anticipated scene again and again in her mind.

"Seems a bit much for two travelers and a child," said Imam, gazing out of the front windshield. He furrowed his brow thoughtfully.

Tip toeing around the wriggling aliens, Riddick positioned himself directly in front of the doors, with his hand poised over the release button, "Don't neither of you follow me. Stay down. Not a glimpse of your face until I say so, understood?" He leaned lazily into the large red button. The doors grated apart, skiving off bugs as they did (some of the more squashed ones fell on his shoes, clinging grotesquely to them), and the ramp extended efficiently.

As soon as one of his well worn boots touched the ramp, all guns were on him. He took in the crowd. Only a select few had weapons at all. Others wore long white lab coats, and there was one woman in bright blue and gold garb that seemed totally out of place. "Don't move," one member of the militia commanded, his voice shook.

Looking down at his boot, it was easy to infer the problem. Slowly, he raised his hands up in surrender. All they had to do was cooperate and they'd be home free.

"Why did you not report an infestation?" demanded the same panicky man.

"What's a few bugs?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"This is a decontamination facility. Thermal scans picked up all 28 life forms on board. Since you did not report more than three we were required to assume you were unaware of the remainder. We are here for your protection."

The woman in blue stepped forward, motioning for the lab techies to move in. They carried large containers and a multitude of utensils with them. Cautiously, they began extracting the little bodies, alive and pancaked alike, form all around Riddick.

"Are you familiar with these creatures?" the woman asked regally. Coming closer, she turned up her nose. She was pretty, no question, with shoulder length, frizzy, red wood colored hair and gold flecked eyes to match. Her build was slender, yet substantial, and she held herself proudly, feigning height.

Riddick was unimpressed. "Vaguely."

"Elaborate."

"I'm familiar in as far as they're slapped all over my exit."

Trying to pierce through his black goggles to his eyes, she bit her lip and twisted a piece of hair from behind her ear. Unable to do so, she moved into a more defensive stance. "As soon as the vessel has been cleaned, have one of my men escort the three of you to my office." It was an order, not a request. She turned to her companions, "You know the drill."

Riddick, his face unreadable, watched her sweep out of their presence.


	4. Secretary Rhiannon

Author's note: Just to clarify, Riddick told the man on the radio that Jack was his sister's son. As for whether or not he acctualy has a sister, I don't know. That may be a secret he'll take with him to the grave... 

**Chapter Four**

* * *

With in a half an hour they were free to go. There was only one problem- Riddick's boots weren't free to go with them. Just as the automatic doors slid accommodatingly open in front of the trio, "Excuse me, sir!" called one of the washed out lab rats. Riddick turned stiffly, ever so slightly. "Excuse me," the man ran up beside him, "I need your shoes." Riddick just stared at him. The man felt the need to point, as if he were talking to a neanderthal, "Your boots." 

Imam tensed. To him, Riddick was unpredictable.

"Sir?"

Riddick calmly pivoted, walked unconcernedly to the ship, threw each foot up on the ramp in succession, undid the laces on both boots, then yanked them off. With each in hand, he took one and scraped it thoroughly on the skiff's hull. Though he did not appear perturbed, a threatening power rippled through his arm as he moved it with measure. The action was poignant, yet leisurely. It mirrored the manor with which he sharpened his blades. When both were finished, maggot-gut free, he slammed his feet back into them.

He returned to the exact spot he had been when the man first stopped him. "I'm clean," he said, lifting the corner of his mouth ever so slightly.

The man was speechless. He clutched his clip board to his chest in wonderment, and gazed helplessly after the big man as he shepherded the other two out of the hanger.

"We need to go to her office," Imam insisted. Riddick's hand guiding him from the small of his back made him exceedingly uncomfortable.

"Stay the course," he whispered menacingly. Not to his surprise, they passed few people, and none of them relinquished so much as a nod.

Unlike Imam, Jack was relishing the feel of Riddick's protective grasp on her shoulder. She trusted him implicitly. If the game of life were played on teams, she felt like she was on the sure-fire winner, with Riddick hammering it home.

Riddick was getting the hell out of there. If no one was going to pursue them to make sure they found their way to the woman's office, he wasn't going to try and find it. Now that they were rid of all of the cursed favors from the dark planet, he was going to keep it that way. He'd find them another ship, a real one, with a certified and preassembled drive. Lifting one from a state sponsored employee would be simple enough.

He took a moment to examine how his left and his right contrasted with their charges. On his right, he had to push, not hard, but enough to let the holy man know that business was business. His left was easy going. She walked steadily, quickly, as if it where she who was leading. He also noticed how she responded to every inflection of his hand. If his grip tightened minimally, she slowed, if his touch backed off, she went forward freely. Experimentally, he sent her forward with a slight push, and let go all together. She tilted her head and smiled, still walking confidently along.

For some reason, it was at that moment that it truly hit him. She wasn't in awe because she was afraid: _she wasn't afraid because she was in awe_. That was a notion he'd never encountered before. Her infatuation shielded her.

As Riddick pulled out of his contemplation, they rounded a corner, and narrowly avoided running smack-dab into the frizzy locked woman. She had been bent over a folder, only using her peripheral vision to watch where she was going. Now, here they were, suddenly face to face. She peered around them suspiciously, but didn't dwell on their lack of accompaniment. Tucking the folder under her arm, she motioned for them to follow her. She didn't smile.

Riddick sniffed softly, minimally annoyed, and complied. Less than four strides found him at her office door. Ushering them inside, she flicked the latch behind them, then informally offered them each a chair. She moved behind her desk and sat. Facing them, she grasped her hands in front of her expectantly.

Imam tried to play the diplomat. Offering his hand, he introduced himself, then started off with some incidental conversation. "What industry does this planet cater to?"

"Research," she said, quick to the point, "And experimentation. Geological and biological. That is why we allowed you to alight here in the first place. If we were any other planet, you most likely would have been turned away. I'm sure you are not unaware that alien infestations are a major inter-galactic concern. They present a danger to ecosystems, economies, and individual persons.

"I am Kali Rhiannon, Secretary of Interplanetary Life Form Regulations here on Aliquis. It is customary for infestation cases to go through me. However, I am particularly interested in yours," she slapped the folder down in front of her and pushed it across to with in Imam's reach. He opened it, not knowing what to expect. He was confronted with a chart. It portrayed what appeared to be heat readings. "Look at the spikes and the pit falls," she leaned closer, pointing with a manicured finger nail, "These three thirty-sevens are you. Clean and clear. But over here, the chart gets confusing. The needles smear together. It's as if they were trying to report hot and cold at the same time, coming from the same object, in the same place. There are twenty five of these strange blips. This is a thermal life scanner. It knows the difference between life, death, and inanimate objects. These readings are contradictory. The machine insisted that these creatures are both alive, and beyond living. I've never seen anything like it."

Imam didn't know what to say. She took the folder back, "I need to know where each of you and your craft have been in the past six months. Before you answer, you should be aware of your options. One, you provide a full list and stay as guests until we locate the planet these animals originated from. Two, you are anything but acquiescent and stay as political detainies until we ferret out the same."

Riddick normally wouldn't be inclined to voice an opinion on such an ultimatum. Then again, he normally wasn't inclined to sit through such superfluous crap. He'd expect such a shallow threat from a merc, but not a planetary official. "Hospitality not part of the 'drill'?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Not in this instant, _officer_."

_Sloppy, Johns,_ Riddick tutted in his mind, _Didn't even bother to dust your tracks properly. Should have expected such low standards from you. Chase me all over the friggin' universe, but wont stop to build up a few safe guards. How did you ever make it?_ He grinned behind his goggles, _That's right, you didn't._

So this was the game: Ms. Rhiannon would keep his falsifications under wraps as long as (or at least, until) she got what she wanted.

Settling back, she said, "Now is the time for choice."

Riddick shrugged and rumbled softly, "I'm all ready DETAINED."


	5. Dirty

**Chapter five**

* * *

She mimicked his gesture, raising her shoulders evenly, "I understand." She inconspicuously pressed a button beneath her desk top, then rose and unlocked the door. 

They stood. Opening the door, she hurried Jack out first, then Imam. When Riddick moved to leave, she stepped in front of him, barring his path. Immediately, four guards appeared in the hall and took hold of Jack and Imam. They secured their hands behind their backs and forced them away.

Jack realized she was being separated from Riddick, and she wouldn't have it. She kicked at her escorts and tried to wriggle free. When she couldn't, she cried out, "Johns!"

A startling pang hitched Riddick's lungs tight in his chest. His eyes widened at his automatic reaction to her distress. Thankfully, his goggles kept his surprise hidden from Ms. Rhiannon. To her, he still remained a pillar of indifference.

She motioned for him to back away from her. He stayed, rooted to the spot. Their close proximity didn't make her fidgety, even if it did make her nervous. He mentally commended her for that. Carefully, lightly, she placed her finger tips on his chest and applied pressure. "I don't give in to threats," she warned.

"Who's making threats?" he said, his tone equally informing.

"Sit down," she command firmly.

He could just sweep her aside. _No skin off my nose_, he thought. But the fact that she didn't cower from him, and instead insisted on barking orders, made him still his hand. Even fem-mercs didn't dare play that game with him. A strong woman deserves to be heard out, he decided. He took up his chair again.

She quickly shut the door, re-latched it, then put her desk between them. She did not sit. "Who are you?" she demanded harshly. "I saw the panic in that man's eyes. Did you kidnap them?"

_Bold,_ he thought blandly. "That's wasn't panic."

"Answer my questions." She tapped the desk for punctuation.

He slouched forward, cocking his head to one side, and replied with mock amity, "I'm Lawrence Johns, resident mercenary. That's my crew you just hauled outta here."

"Your crew?" she couldn't believe his insolence.

"Mmm- hmm," he nodded with a shadow of a grin.

She leaned austerely against the wall behind her, with her arms crossed like iron bars over her chest. "The child-"

"What about him?"

"Who does he belong to?"

He stretched back, placing his arms rigidly over the rests. With earnest, so there would be no question, "Me. Like I told your gate keeper, Jack's my nephew. He goes where I go." With that, he move to leave once more.

"I have to take you to a holding suite," she said, intending to halt him in his tracks.

Opening the door, he waited for her, "Better get on with it, then."

She felt the need to make conversation as they stomped down the corridor, his elbow clutched in her capable hand. "We will run a series of experiments on those creatures. Make no mistake, we will determine their planet of origin. I suppose it's where you came from. I look forward to returning you there, I'm sure you're sorely missed."

"Sister, you've got no idea..."

Upon arriving at his 'suite', she thrust him in. It was a much gentler exchange than he'd some how expected. Two large members of the local militia were posted out side. "I have no patience for mercenaries," she remarked before leaving him.

_Wonder how she feels about convicts, then,_ he pondered absently.

The room was sparse, but (needless to say) much more livable than any slam. He noted that it rather resembled the guest quarters on the Sigra station they had not long departed from. That left him inexplicably bitter.

He pushed himself to the bathroom. Abruptly, his stomach flipped and he felt sick. Shoving the old fashioned, porcelain toilet seat up, he vomited, completely emptying his belly. After a final, dry hack, he moved to the sink. Flipping off the lights manually, and roughly clawing the shades from his face, he peered through the darkness into the mirror. It'd been a while since he'd seen a meal a second time. His constitution was as stable as stone. Bad sign, he concluded, very bad sign.

He rinsed his mouth out, but couldn't get the taste of contamination out of his palate. He felt dirty. Not the usual dirty, with grit and personal grime, but dirty as if there was a pool of toxic waist in his gut. The feeling seeped through every pour, from head to foot.

He barked at the shower to turn on. It complied, unmoved by the crushed glass in his voice. He tested the water, making sure it was as hot as he could stand.

He was used to not knowing where he was going. He was used to not understanding who he was. He was used to not caring where he came from... But he wasn't used to being eluded by his emotions. He always understood what he was feeling and why he was feeling it. This moment was the exception. It was as if an astral hand had reached inside of him and scrambled the higher- thinking part of his brain, leaving the reptilian part to sort out the mess. He felt jumbled and confused. Why was he acting this way? Where were these abstract perceptions and befuddled mentalities stemming from?

Though a battle was raging in his mind, his exterior was as sound and collected as always. His hands worked mechanically over his form, scrubbing deftly at the soiled sensation. After mere minutes, his skin felt raw under the near scalding onslaught of water. The burning was good. It was something to focus on- a simple distraction. He patted his head; it would be time for a shave soon.

He reeled. Slapping his hand out to meet the shower wall, he steadied himself. Jack. Some how the feelings were related to her. That didn't help, he still couldn't place _what_ they were. He resisted the impulse to yank the shower head off of its base. Pin pointing the source had only succeeded in heightening his exasperation.

Kids. More trouble than they're worth.

, he thought blandly. "That's wasn't panic.", he pondered absently. 


	6. Stomach Turning Info

She made him weak. He subconsciously submitted to the idea as he slept hours later.

Suddenly, the lights sprang to life, stinging his eye's through their lids. Once awake there was no ignoring the enticing pull of activity. Just as he slid from the hard mattress, a hefty knock came at the door. With out waiting for a reply, it was opened. Kali stepped in, the two guards close behind.

"I need to show you something," she said bluntly.

She didn't need to beckon for him to follow. They walked side by side, much to the discomfort of the two other large men. She was capable, they knew, but if she went down... they all did.

"Your little friends are indeed special," she said with an unflattering air.

"Which ones?"

She let herself smile softly, feeling she was in control. He had a way of making people overly confident, right up until the end. "The little wriggly ones."

They stopped at a pair of Plexiglas sliding doors. With a nod, she dismissed their accompaniment. Once the doors slid into place behind them, she warned casually, "Watch your eyes."

A blaring white light was blasted at them from all directions. Even his goggles could not protect him. The light shot a hot spike through his brain which forced him to behold dizzying displays of color. His neck snapped back, and he stumbled, groping blindly. He threw his hands in front of his face in a futile attempt to protect himself, roaring like a caged lion, tormented and trapped. Within seconds it was over, and as his vision cleared, his anger erupted.

He lashed out at her, latching onto her collar and hauling her up off the floor, "What the fuck was that?" he demanded.

She was taken totally by surprise, and failed to stifle the tremors of fear that racked her limbs and rendered her speechless.

Riddick had always been able to recognize the times for brutality and the times to suck it up and let others do their thing. Now was not an occasion to get messy.

He dropped her and she stumbled back into a wall. Quickly she composed herself. "I do _not_ like surprises!" She breathed, irrefutably irate.

"Neither do I," he rumbled, crossing his arms.

"I warned you," she said. Her voice was airy, yet fierce, slightly maddened with the sudden fright. "Believe me," she brought her self up, right in his face. "I don't tolerate abuse of any kind, _Mr. Johns_. One more stunt like that and I blow the horn on your little charade."

"No you wont," he assured her, "You wont say a word until you know for sure who I am. Because If I happen to disappear," he stepped into her, crowding her, she had no choice but to recoil, "You wanna be sure you know who to stick the bounty hunters on."

She squared her shoulders to him, "I all ready know who you are." She slid sideways, out of his path. She punched in a code on the key pad adjacent to the far wall. A panel that spanned form floor to ceiling gaped open. "That little fit of yours just proved it." She disappeared, and he followed.

"That was a decontamination," she informed him, almost apologetic, "I'm sorry you were so affected."

They found themselves in a stark white laboratory. Except for the expected equipment, it was empty. She slipped a metal bowl off of a shelf and rested it against her hip. Striding up to the intercom, " 'Kay. Come on in boys," she said, her usual manor fully restored. Turing to Riddick, she commented tauntingly, "You'll get a kick out of this."

He clenched his fists, ready for any bout of trickery she might be planning.

In came two lab techies carrying a clear plastic tub between them. They put it on a table. Inside were three of the worms, two alive, one dead with its phosphorescence fading. Kali thrust the bowl at Riddick, holding it lightly against his torso until he took it. He didn't ask what it was for.

With a gloved hand, one of the men picked up the deceased animal. The other technician handed him a scalpel. Techie number one stood in front of Riddick and split the creature down the center, virtually right under the bronze man's nose. Faintly glowing juices, moldy looking navy blue blood, and sour guts seeped out as the flesh was torn so precisely. Riddick stared, not sure what exactly it was that he was supposed to be so impressed by. After a moment, he glanced sideways at the woman. Her eyebrows only twitched, encouraging him to keep watching.

A quiet minute ticked by, then another. The standing and waiting was becoming significantly ridiculous. Then, it happened again. His insides flopped, and stomach acid churned up into his esophagus. Clutching the basin with whitening knuckles, he tilted sideways and threw up for the second time.

She nodded to the scientists and they left. When they were alone again, she sighed heavily, "And that is why you shouldn't have been so pig headed. Weren't feeling too well after I dropped you off at your quarters, were you? Should have let my men take your boots," she tutted, "They would have cleaned them for you." As conspicuously as possible, she pulled a translucent plug from each of her nostrils, "They would have gotten all of the poison off. But, you had to be the bad ass. I have to inform you, Mr. Riddick, from this angle you just look like an ass."

He drug the back of his hand roughly over his mouth, then spit.

She continued on, "Are you interested in finding out what we've learned so far about them?" She didn't pause for a reply, "They are larva. What they become, we have yet to discover. Their DNA is not compatible with any samples we currently have on file- and we have a lot."

He rigidly threw the soiled dish on the table.

She clasped her hands lightly behind her back and began undirectedly revolving around him. "As you have experienced, their internal secretions make others physically sick. A very useful defense mechanism. Their glow, we speculate, is also a defense mechanism. Possibly used to signal that they are poisonous.

"When we submerged them in water... they grew."

His head bounced minimally towards her, his neck muscles drawing tight with the sudden movement. _It rained when we left_, he reminded himself.

"And those that were exposed haven't stopped growing."

"How many?" he growled.

"Fifteen."

"Fifteen," he echoed. Immediately, he stalked back through the panel, the Plexiglas doors, and into the hall.

"Wait!" she hurried to catch him. He didn't lax his pace.

The implications had hit him like a ton of bricks. He'd have to either be stupid or in utter denial not to be able to gauge what the clues added up to. He was always one to look reality in the face, and never wasted a prayer begging for things to be different. If he was wrong, then he was wrong. But he wasn't going to stick around to gloat if he wasn't.

That smoky blood... the light... the rain... the feeding... and they were larva.

_When the shit hits the fan_, he told himself, _we better be at least twenty clicks away from this rock._

"Johns!" she called, trying to gain his attention by graciously using his alias.

He was back at his suite. No guards flanked the doors and no locks barred his way inside. He stopped before bounding over the threshold. Fisting the thin doorjamb, he didn't face her, "Tonight you and your staff learn the meaning of _skull fuck_."

* * *

Author's Note: I'm not one to use the F word... but Riddick is, so I couldn't shy away from it. I don't know why I don't like to, it's just the way I am. So, this is my apology to those of you with sensitive eyes. 


	7. Life Cycle

Author's Note: Number one; **Please read the Author's notes!** If you have a question I may have all ready answered it here. Number two; I edited chapter six a little. I added some more description and eliminated the typos I could find. Nothing too huge has been changed, so if you don't want to don't feel the need to go back and reread it.

**Chapter Seven

* * *

**

"Get the boy and Imam. Bring them to me," he ordered, practically flowing back inside.

She would not be dismissed so easily, "I am currently responsible for their safety. Given your past record-"

"I don't need a re-cap," he snapped, "Get me my crew."

She stood firm. "No," she said curtly.

He rounded on her, pulling his goggles off. They engaged in a spur of the moment stare down. The shine neither surprised nor phased her. Still, she felt compelled to repeat herself, "I said, _no_."

"If you want to keep them safe, you'll hand them over."

Being in his presence was becoming more and more agitating. His placid nature was at best creepy, and at worst appalling. "I don't have to answer to you. You are in _my_ facility under _my_ control. Now, if there is something I need to know, you're going to tell me. Then it'll be up to me to protect those people, not you. You're incapable."

He almost plowed her to the ground right then and there. She had no right to judge his abilities. Up to this point he had enjoyed how ballsy she was, but now she had stepped out of line. He wasn't going to stand for it.

Carefully, he pulled a finely crafted, curved shiv from some where behind his back. He tested its weight in his hand, but did not direct it at her. "You know," he said darkly, "Most would consider it stupid not to search a convicted killer before letting him wonder about."

"It is stupid," she agreed, "But it would be down right imbecilic for some one who's read your file to attempt to frisk you. Whom ever I assigned to that job would have watched themselves bleed out in less than three minutes. Am I right?"

"You kept me armed in the interest of_ safety_, did you?" he shook his head, "Doesn't make much sense."

"Are you criticizing my methods?"

"Who wouldn't?"

She pivoted. Pausing in the door way, she restated, "I'm not bringing that boy to you."

"You'll break his heart," he sneered.

"...But. But I will ask Imam if he'd care to see you. I'll make it up to him."

He let her go, satisfied.

Re-sheathing his weapon, he made for the bed. As soon as his back side hit the sheets he stood up again. He was too antsy to sit, yet too focused to pace. So he stood, and immersed himself in thought.

He'd now seen the beginning and end of the night flyers, and he understood their life cycle. During the eclipse they swarmed over the surface, not only eating but also mating. Mating, eating, and growing. He remembered how big they were when they first flew out of the coring room; they were small, like bats. Then later, back on the dead and broken Hunter Gratzner they were larger, like rottweilers. And when they'd finally lifted off, the ones they plowed through were bigger than any man. And those bones... those colossals. They were a testament, lasting icons, representing the last to fall. Every time an eclipse engulfed T2, the night flyers ate the species to death.

He'd gathered as much back on the dark planet. He'd discovered their blind spot by studying their gigantic weather beaten bones. He hadn't had time to spare on contemplation of the perpetuation of their kind while he was sprinting for his life... but now his life depended on what he could deduce from the information given. His life, and others.

If an entire generation was found dead by the new sun rise, how did the terror begin again? If they were mating they must also have been giving birth. But how does an infant stay safe with cannibalistic relatives? It was genius, really. So that the race would go on, they had developed a method to keep their offspring out of harms way. The maggots were deadly. They wheedled the one sword that was guaranteed to strike a lethal blow to their parents: light. If you can't come within three feet of them, you can't eat them. And thus the creatures live on.

Then there was the water. The planet was one big desert. The larva had been supplanted in caves and crevices. If it rained it would take the water a while to seep into their storage spaces, and little would reach them at a time. The water was their sole nutrient. As they sucked it, they grew. Normally the pace would be slow and steady, but if there was a flood... or if they were some how deposited in a bucket full of water...

He his Adam's apple bobbed dryly. Rubbing his eyes, he wondered how long it would take them to fully develop into the beasts he'd seen.

They needed off this planet. And if they weren't _given_ passage, he'd take it.

There was a light knock on the door.

"Yeah?" he bid them come in.

Thankfully, it was Imam. He looked worried.

"Bad news, Holy Man," he said frankly.

"I was afraid of as much," he seated himself near the door. Absently, he twisted the edge of his robe between his fingers. Riddick noticed that his forehead contained multiple knots of anxiety.

"What's she been tellin' you?" he asked, lifting the corner of his mouth ever so slightly, masking his own pangs.

"Ms. Rhiannon? She... She, uh- she's been asking questions. Questions about you," he stammered.

"And what did you say?"

"Nothing," he twitched, adamant that Riddick believe him, "I told her nothing."

Riddick turned his back on him, "Doesn't matter," he said softly, "Bitch probably wont live long enough to squeal on me any way." Imam shifted suddenly in his chair, making the plastic cased cushion squeak. "It's just like last time," Riddick murmured, "It ain't me you got to worry about now."

* * *

Author's Note: FitMama, you pinned it, good job. I know this chapter was rather short in comparison to the others, so sorry all. 


	8. Jack, The Acting Brat

Author's Note: You all flatter me too much! Thank you so much for all of the wonderful and thoughtful reviews so far. Keep 'em coming!

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

Riddick told him his theories, and Imam didn't take the news lightly. "All of these people- they're in danger!" he stood up sharply.

"_We're_ in danger," Riddick emphasized, "We don't got nothing' to do with any one else. We take care of our selves."

"And leave every one else to die?" Surly Riddick could muster more compassion.

"That's the plan," he said, curling his lip up in a disdainful smirk.

"Riddick, they must be warned,"

"What are we gonna tell them? The truth? They wont buy it."

"They must."

Riddick nodded, "But they wont."

Imam jutted his jaw out. He was right, of course. An unexplained crash, a tattered band of displaced persons who appoint an escaped convict and mass murderer to lead them, a planet with a single inhabitant species that drives its self to the brink of extinction every chance it gets... people dead, all but three.

Imam dwelled on the last thought. It was suspicious looking, he realized. The only ones who made it were the killer, the religious leader, and the only little girl left by the initial crash (who was now masquerading as a boy for reasons unknown). The truth would get them no where they wanted to be. They would blame Riddick. They would say he killed every one, but couldn't bring himself to finishes off the last two. Even convicts had their codes. No men of God and no defenseless babes. That would be what they'd say.

"The truth-" he began, but choked on the words.

Riddick nodded again, "Won't set us free."

"What do we do?"

He crossed to the door and leaned against it, "Get Jack. Then run for it. Bust out. It's all we can do."

"Ms. Rhiannon won't let me see her," Imam confessed, "I don't even know where she was taken."

It was silent between them for a moment. Then, "I have a question," Riddick said, staring off into space, "Are we being tested?" Imam just looked at him, "In your professional opinion, what does God have to do with any of this?"

"He has his-"

"He has his ways and his reasons and his rights and his trials," he interrupted, "We've been through our crucible. We proved our selves, didn't we?"

"Proved our selves of what?" Imam brought it around on him. He would convince this man that God was good, even if it took him forever and back, some how he would do it. "Maybe we proved that we were worthy of the lesson he wishes to give us. Maybe it was the test before the trial. He only gives his messages to those who are strong enough to receive them. Now, through this next adversity, he may teach. Though, one lesson leads to the other at times. You cannot say that you did not change and grow through that perpetual night. You said your self that something in you died there, something better left in the dust and grit of that world.

"Do not through away all hope for a good god yet. He is here."

"If you say so," he bowed his head, "It's a fool who gets shit on by God and still can't see that he doesn't give a fuck."

Imam had no reply.

"Go on. Tell that Rhiannon that you're going to see the boy. Make sure she understands there will be consequences if she refuses." _Threats, I'll give her threats._ "When I break wide, be on your toes. You never know when I might get a little shiv happy and start bustin' open everything in my way."

When he was alone again he slammed his fist into the wall. "God," he addressed, looking up in mock prayer, "You're getting on my nerves."

As soon as Kali had dropped Imam off at Riddick's door she had gone to retrieve Jack for a little conference of her own. She figured the child would be more likely to open up and admit that Riddick had hurt them if the two men weren't around to breath down his neck. They sat in her office for the interview. She wanted to make sure Jack felt as comfortable as possible, so they sat together on the leather couch in the back corner that Kali usually reserved for all-nighters.

"So, Jack," she said conversationally, "Tell me about Johns."

"Johns?" She didn't act scared, or reluctant, or worried, or upset in the slightest, "He's my uncle," she said plainly.

"Mm- hmm. What's your mother's name?"

"Uh, Audry," she said the first thing that came to mind. She'd surprised herself, and sadly couldn't keep that hidden.

"Audry, hu?"

"Yep," she gave her a weak smile, "That's my mom."

"And what system are you from?"

She played dumb, "Well, the same one my uncle's from."

"And that would be..?"

She bit the inside of her bottom lip. Damn, this wasn't going to be easy. If she answered, chances were she'd get it wrong, and she couldn't refuse to reply. How about a diversion then?

"Miss, when can I see my uncle and Imam? You see, my grandpa's dying. Imam's his priest I guess, and he came to tell us that he has very little time left. My mom's all ready on Helion Prime with him. Uncle Lawrence and I would really like to see him one last time. He needs his family.

"We just came down here to relax a little before going into cryo-sleep. I don't like being in it, Uncle Lawrence knows, so he wanted to get it off my mind." She dropped her head to her hands and pleaded aridly, "I just wanna see my grandpa."

Ms. Rhiannon put her thumb nail between her teeth and gnawed it softly. It could be true. Was it possible that Riddick's father was dying, so he risked a confrontation with humanity to be with him? But the larva... The kid was jerking her chain.

"That was a good story," she said soothingly, "But you don't have to make up things to protect him."

Jack sat up, all fragments of distress shoved aside, "I don't need to protect him."

"Jack," she caught her gaze and held it, "What has Riddick done to you?"

The young girl scoffed and stood, burring her fists deep in her pockets. "What has he done to me?" She wandered a few steps away.

"Has he hurt you? Did he take you from your family? Has he forced you to do things you didn't want to? He's a bad man, Jack. He's killed people. What has he done to you?"

She pulled something out of her left pocket and held it in front of her, staring at it for a moment. Kali couldn't see what it was she had. Slowly, like a phantom out of a horror film, Jack turned. She placed a pair of ruined swimmer's goggles on her forehead and gently pulled them down over her eyes. "He made me," she said hollowly.


	9. Better To Be A Boy

Author's Note: Here you get a little insight into where Jack was before she found herself on T2. And for all of you who love a good fight, never fear, Riddick is going to lay it down in chapter 10. That's when the real fun begins.

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

Ms. Rhiannon's diagnosis was quick. Hero worship, she decided... she hoped. Clean, simple.

She had been housing Jack in her own private wing and returned her there not long after the youth's bold declaration. When she turned her back on her to leave, Jack smoothly flipped her off, a gesture she was becoming fastly familiar with. Then she jumped onto the bed, 'forgetting' to remove her boots like she promised she would.

"Ah, you shoulda seen me, Riddick," she gushed to the white washed walls. She continued to hop up and down, having found a sufficient out let for her nervous energy. "It was great. She never saw me coming," she laughed, "She really does think you're Big Evil. She thought I was some battered kid. Yep, she thought you'd knocked me round a good one." She flipped over and fell to her stomach, still grinning from ear to ear. "I think I creeped her out. I could get used to this," she stifled her last few words in a pillow.

After a moment she was still and sat up, realizing she'd lost her cool facade. She still smiled though, she couldn't help herself. Bouncing off the bed, she strode to Kali's vanity. She pulled her goggles up and scrutinized her eyes. She imagined what she'd look like with a shine. _I could do it,_ she thought, as if she were trying to convince the emptiness around her, _I could. Babies, opting out at the last minute. You gotta go all the way. Don't start if you don't intend to finish, you idiots. Even I could do it._ With a contented sigh, she replaced the goggles.

Eventually, a knock came at the door. "Yeah, what?" she asked, snotty.

"Jack?" questioned a muffled voice from the other side.

"Oh, Imam," she hurried over. Upon opening the door, her face fell. Ms. Rhiannon was there as well. "In or out," she stated, as bratty as possible, and started back to the bed.

Imam put out his hand, grasping onto her shoulder to stop her. "Please, Jack."

"What?" She demanded, brushing him off.

"The animals from your ship have started growing, and they certainly aren't maggots any more," said Ms. Rhiannon to both of them. "Riddick seemed to find this troublesome."

"Then it is," Jack said firmly.

"Where are they from?" Neither of them answered. Jack glared at her coldly.

"This," she punctuated, "Is your final chance. Tell me now."

"Or what?" spat Jack.

"Or I'll send Riddick right back where he came from."

"You're gonna do it any way! The sooner you find out where the worms came from the sooner you take him!"

"Jack," he chided softly.

"It's true, Imam. You know it is."

"I can see we're talking our selves in circles," Kali admitted. "So it's time for action." She lifted a walkie-talkie from a side holster, "Mitch? Secretary Rhiannon."

"Yes ma'am," replied a scratchy voice.

"Take the man in suite four to cell six, please. I'll meet you down there in ten minutes."

"Copy."

"He'll never get there," Jack sneered with minimal satisfaction.

"Careful, young man. I'm not above locking you away as well."

_Sean was right, _she thought, _It is better to be a boy._ _She never would have been that brash with a girl._

Sean was a boy she had run around with back at Philanthropy Children's Hospital. They hadn't known each other too well since he'd only been there for little less than three months before they ran away.

It may have been called a hospital, but the locals pinned it as a run down boarding house for little street bastards. In truth, that was pretty much what it was. The managers had slapped 'hospital' over the front door to earn themselves a pat on the back and a few more government creds. One didn't find themselves a resident of their own accord, no, they were rounded up and hog tied. It was a good way to keep the dirty urchins off the sidewalks at night, made The City feel cleaner.

Sean had been places. He'd hitch hiked across seven systems, supposedly, and seen things she could hardly imagine. He was fifteen, so she was inclined to believe him. He wouldn't shut up about those damn planets whizzing by, and the stars. He even described cryo-sleep to her. After that she was hooked. Anything that trippy had to be experienced for ones self.

He planned it all. He said he knew where all of the off world hangers were in The City and could get them there easy. There were two rules: stick together, and don't let any one know you're a girl. "You'll be safer that way," he told her, "Bad things happen to girls with no mothers around." Besides, boys had more fun. They could climb things and hit people. _Sure, why not?_ she'd thought, _Any thing to get the hell out of here._ She wasn't much of a dress wearing girly girl any way. If Sean said she should be a boy, then she'd be a boy.

But, _stick together_ was a little more difficult to manage.

On the night they agreed upon she snuck up to the older boys bunk room on the second floor at two. Sean distracted his room mates with the promise of free candy and dirty magazines if they snuck down to the dinning hall and brought his stash back to him. The ploy had worked like a charm. The two of them tied bed sheets together, like Sean had seen in the movies once, and shimmied down into the ally way below.

There he handed her a hand full of universal credit notes. Then they ran. Jack had brought up the memory of their frantic dash when she found herself in the dark on T2. As they scuttled along, draped in coils of light, she could feel her heart doing jumping jacks in her throat. It had beat the same way, playing to the same tempo, when she and he had been sprinting for their freedom. That was exhilaration like she'd never felt before. She felt light, like she was part of the wind streaking along. They had broken out into high pitched giggles of triumph once they had put a substantial distance between themselves and that dingy frat house for orphans. It was wanton liberation like she'd never felt before.

By six they were there. He hadn't picked the closest hanger. Said that would be the first place they'd look. But he _had_ picked the largest hanger. More places to hide. There they could disappear into a crowd with no problem.

"We have to get on the first available flight, got me?" He said, taking her hand as they weaved through the throngs of early morning galactic commuters. "Else we'll be hangin' around here too long. They'll catch us if we do."

He spoke with such expertise, she only nodded.

The man in the ticket booth didn't seem to be surprised by the two minors at his window. In fact, Jack didn't think he'd ever even glanced up from his compute screen to lay his beady black eyes on them. Heck, Sean's voice was so deep he could have been in his mind twenties.

"Two tickets? I'm sorry sir, but if you want the _earliest_ flight I can't do that. It's a Company flight, and I'm afraid there is only room for one more, then it's at its max. capacity for civilian passengers. The Hunter Grazer- sorry, Gratzner."

Sean considered this for a moment, "What's the next flight?"

"Um, cleaner craft. The Melody Snow... cute name," he grumbled, then sighed, "It only has one free seat as well. Look, sir. We don't have any open flights after that until near noon."

"We'll take them. One for the Company ship, and one for the cleaner."

The tickets were spit out at them, Sean ripped them free and they rushed off. "Look, A. We can't go together."

"Yeah, I get it," she nodded, laughing at the worried frown that was making his face droop.

"It's not funny, Audry," he said. He put the tickets behind his back and mixed them up. Holding both hands out with a one grasped in each he said, "Pick one. It could decide the rest of your life, so chose well."

"Oh, shut up," she said, snatching the one out of his left, "It's not that big of a deal."

"A, I don't know if we'll ever see each other again, understand?"

"Hey, if we do we do, if we don't we don't," she said, trying to still sound like she didn't mind. His down trodden features were making it hard.

"Yeah, okay." He hugged her and she returned it tentatively. Stepping back, "Remember, boys are safer out there."

"I'll be a good boy," she nodded.

"Do me a favor. Find someone and stick to them. Someone to show you the ropes. Someone who can be a front for you. Someone who no one will mess with and who wont mess with you."

"Ease up, okay?" she requested, punching him lightly in the arm. She was free, they both were. He should be happy. So what if they weren't together? They hadn't been together for the majority of their lives. But she did feel funny. It was a feeling she'd never experienced before. A pit had settled some where in her gut, making it uncomfortable to move.

"We're friends, right?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she said with a nod. Maybe that was it. She's never had a _friend _before. And now, she realized, she was losing him. "Yeah, we're friends."

"We better go find out flights," he said, shuffling, "Bye Audry. Don't get hurt. Have fun. Bye," he bent and brushed a light kiss against her cheek. She recoiled a little, but eased up as soon as he touched her. "Now," he said, pretending to be business like, "What is you're name, sir?"

"Um... Jack."

He held out his hand for her to shake, "Nice to meet you, Jack." He turned and took a step, but revolved again quickly and gave her another hug, "Jack," he said quietly, "Don't be bad."

"Maybe I want to be bad," she returned jokingly.

"Don't be," and with that he assimilated himself into the roving swarms.

x.X.x

Bang! Bang!

Riddick's eyes lazily swept across the suite to the door. _They've come for me,_ he thought slyly.

A large man slammed through and pointed an over sized blaster at him.

"I wanna know one thing," he said lowly, rising to face the intruder, "What time is it?"

"Nearly sun down," the man said contemptibly.

"Perfect timing."


	10. Smack Down

Author's Note: As you can all see, I'm trying very hard to make sure everything in this story is consistent with the 'real' world of Riddick. This means that there will be no romance between Riddick and Jack (though there is an undeniable attachment there), or between him and any one else for that matter. Honestly, if you want my opinion, I don't think Riddick's been involved with any one in a long time. His number one priority is his survival, and I think of him as a person who would see involvement as dangerously compromising (even if it was 100 percent physical). I think he does his best to avoid women. Don't get me wrong, sure he's got his 'needs'... but I think he's taught himself to suppress them (or what have you). When you're bidding for your life day to day, every thing else gets put on the back burner.

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

"C'mon," the man ordered belittlingly, "C'mon tough guy. Lets get you down to that clean little cell." 

Riddick stalked up to him and pushed his goggles up. The man twitched a little. "Should tell you..." he said, quiet and coy, "I'm not used to taking orders."

"Get used to it."

Riddick smiled slightly, "Probably don't wanna know what happened to the last man who said that."

"Quit shittin' me. Lets get this over with."

"Fine," he growled.

He was double fisted in a flash. A sour shing sounded in the room as the two curved blades pulled past each other in their unsheathing. Riddick kicked the enforcer out into the hall, who slammed solidly against the far wall, but was able to find his footing again in an instant. Immediately, they were surrounded. The guard had been smart enough to bring buddies. Promptly, Riddick numbered them all, one through six. Poor odds... for them.

"Put down your weapons!" Number Two shouted, targeting him in his view finder.

Riddick pirouetted, bringing one blade down across the man's throat and slicing the other across his tender belly. Another ran at him from behind, Three. Riddick dropped down, extending one leg to sweep the assailant off his feet. He plummeted to the linoleum floor, yet escaped being skewered by the goggled man's shiv with a carefully timed roll.

While he was still on his haunches and focused on the somersaulting man, the first, whom he had so forcefully expelled from his suite, rejoined the fray. Riddick launched himself backwards with a twist, barreling into his abdomen. They knocked down guards Four and Five as they flew through the corridor. Riddick flipped to his back, still hugging his quarry around the middle. When he hit the ground he pushed his blades in on both sides of the vertebral column, ripping open that coveted sweet spot.

Pushing his second victim away, he jumped to his feet. Two dead, four more to kill. He vaulted against the wall, pouncing on one of the two he'd knocked over. His left shiv carved a beautifully straight, vertical line from his navel to his nose. The other, guard Four, struggled to his feet and tried to clasp Riddick around the neck with his massive hands.

What Riddick did next, the man decided right before he collapsed for the final time, he shouldn't have been able to do. He did a standing back flip right over his head, just scraping the ceiling. As he tumbled through the air he drug his blades over the man's shoulders and down his back, flanking and filleting his spine. As he fell, Riddick pulled the blaster from his dead grasp and used it to burst open a gaping hole in the dodger's, Number Three's, chest, all the while still maintaining an acceptable grip on both his knives.

That was it, one left. Throwing the spent balster aside, he turned to face Six, his expression heavy. It told the other man he had no qualms about cutting down one more.

The solder was green, young and new on the job, hadn't been there half a year. _I told you so,_ he heard his mother's voice inside his head. "Mother knows best," he whispered out loud, then shirked his gun and turned tail.

There was always one in a pack, the one coward who's blood flashed yellow at the first sign of a skirmish. A small voice in the back of his mind told Riddick to let him go, but he knew that wasn't an option. That dithering rabbit would sound the alarm too soon. He needed time to find Jack and Imam before the crimson lights started flashing and the sirens started screaming. So he took up the chase. Quickly, he replaced his shivs and scooped up the loaded, pre-readied blaster, scampering down the hall with the confidence of a spider who has a fly struggling in his well woven strings.

His mouse darted into a hole the first chance it got. Riddick slid in after him. The space was small and cramped, a control room with rows of computers and servers that kept the whole operation up and running. Number Six thought he could hide here, in the dark. Poor thing, he'd never heard of a surgical shine job before. He'd never seen a no daylight slam, had not idea what kind of animals were bread down there in the underbelly of underbellies. If you weren't a monster before you went there, it wasn't long before you were forced through a metamorphosis. And if such a change didn't take place... you died. It wasn't that the guard had underestimated the con- there was just no way for him to know what he was up against.

Riddick made no noise as he slipped from isle to isle, the weapon poised for accurate discharge. The man was huddled on the floor with his back against the end of one of the massive shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. He was quivering slightly, hugging himself. _Get a grip, get a grip,_ he chanted over and over to himself. With a shaky, sweaty palm he extracted a small side arm from a concealed holster. He kissed it's grip and held it up in front of him, it's barrel pointed at the ceiling, waiting. Cautiously, he peered around the partition down the isle to his left. Something moved at the other end, retracting. Riddick's boot. _Get a grip, get a grip._ He pulled back, his heart thumping urgently in his ears. Keeping his back pinned to the bulk behind him, he rose to his feet slowly.

Riddick glided back into the isle that had just been scanned by his victim and advanced. Each measured step spelled doom for the shaking newbie.

Maybe he smelled him, or maybe he just lost his head. Either way, The boy split. He rolled into the next isle- away from Riddick, who heard him go and immediately dashed around the corner. After two more steps he fired at a slight angle, forcing the fleeing man's body into a wall of wires, plugs, and blinking mechanisms. The blast not only made a mess of the guard, but also of the machines he'd been launched against. Sparks flew through the air around him, and the sound of something large winding down was clearly audible. On a near by switch board, all of the lights winked out.

Riddick discarded the blaster and reentered the hall. He could see perfectly. All of the lights, left and right for as far as he could see, where out. He could only speculate as too how far the black out extended. In truth, every where had lost lighting capabilities. Every where except for the two hangers, which were hooked up to a separate power grid. And that wasn't all he'd knocked out. The power locks that kept the automatic doors shut were failing through out the main body of the facility. Every where from Kali's private wing to the labs, doors were opening.


	11. Appetites

**Chapter Eleven**

* * *

"Now the fun begins," Riddick commented off hand to himself, shouldering the gun and strolling past the fallen keepers of law and order. He decided it was time to look for his crew. 

Kali had just stepped out when the lights went off. In an instant she was back, taped to their side. "Don't worry," she said calmly, "Just a short some where, I'm sure." She clicked on the walkie- talkie, "Mitch?" There was no reply, "Mitch, you got lights?" Nothing but silence. "Probably turned it off to focus on your friend," she reasoned.

"He's probably dead," Jack said, true to life.

"Don't be scared," Kali replied factiously.

Imam wrapped his arm around Jack's shoulder, as much to restrain her as it was to protect her. He turned to the woman, and said dimly, "I believe Mr. Riddick is coming."

She couldn't find her voice to tell him he was wrong. Instead, she revealed a small, old fashioned hand gun. Even Jack was surprised. She squared herself to the open doorway and aimed into the blackness. He wasn't going to hurt them, no way. He wasn't going to hurt her either, for that matter. Tensely, they all stood still, waiting for what ever was going to happen to happen. Minute after agonizing minute passed, and Kali never eased.

He came, as they all knew he would. His form swooped out of the shadows, appearing like the true creature of the night he was. The door framed him perfectly, a photo from hell. Her firearm was pointed right at his heart. All she had to do was squeeze. For a long moment, no one spoke.

Eventually, Jack couldn't stand it any more. Wrenching herself away from Imam, she jumped between them. "Jack," Riddick purred.

"No. Hell no."

He brushed her aside. No point in her getting all shot up now. After all, he'd come back, hadn't he? "We're leaving," he announced to Ms. Rhiannon.

Before she could reply they heard an earth shattering crash. Like a scientific observation window bursting into pieces as something broke through it. Yeah, that was exactly what it was like.

"Play time," Riddick declared, moving Jack into the hall behind him. He motioned for Imam to join her. The holy man skirted around the raised weapon with extreme caution. "Follow us," Riddick said, turning his back, "Or stay here and die."

She pulled her finger off the trigger and slowly lowered the gun, "You can't get to the hangers with out passing the labs," she said.

"I know."

"Are they really all that dangerous?" she asked seriously, putting the fire arm away. She hoped he'd give her odds to work with.

"Only if they're hungry," he shifted out of her line of sight, an action which made her shiver. She skipped after him.

"And?"

"And I ain't never seen them when they're not." Then he began clicking his tongue against his teeth, staring into the space before them.

Light and the lack there of played a crucial part in the beast's lives. As long as they still had the protective glow juices flowing through them they were unaffected by brightness, yes. But their skin wasn't the only physical part of them affected by these natural aspects. Their appetites were as well. In their dens, peeked by the termite mound-like spires, they were not wholly secluded from the suns. Some daylight was allowed to seep in. It was a hunger suppressant, the instinct to lay dormant during the day had been embedded into them through several millennia of change and development. Once the sky went dark, their desire for meat sprang to life, new and fresh, unexperienced and tantalizing. This was why for the many years the colony congregated under ground, fully developed with rows of razors jutting from their jaws, they did not fly into a feeding frenzy. Occasionally, if one hurt its self or was taken ill they would snack on it, drawn to the sent of death. But in those cases no blood bath ensued, thanks to the subduing warmth and glow from the suns above.

Unfortunately, when the power failed there were several scientists on duty running superfluous tests on a few of the special fifteen. They were now almost as big as fruit bats, but sill glowed faintly. They looked nothing like the little worms that had been scrapped from around Riddick's feet. They were products of their parents, no doubt about it.

The animals had been gentle, dangerously docile. They scampered around almost like pint sized dogs. They did not enjoy being poked, prodded, and caged, of course, but what creature does?

But when darkness fell, the Devil went to town.

Click- click. Clickity- click.

As if in slow motion, the creatures rose to their hind legs where ever they were. Two were free from their box prisons, having been in the middle of testing. They locked onto each man in turn, identifying him through echo location. Then, their bellies started to rumble. A peel of harsh cries swarmed through the lab, and the two pounced, slicing through one man at a time. In response, the caged ones began throwing themselves against the glass panels. Eventually, all fifteen were loose. One man almost made it to the manual door, but five of them descended on his head, ending his endeavors.

Once they had consumed the four technicians they wanted more. At first they tried attacking each other, but found it difficult to do. Not only were they experts at dodging each other, but their skin was becoming sensitive. If they touched another, the other's phosphorescence stung them. As the glow faded, their resistance to light fell away as well. However, ironically, they all still shone bright enough to keep the others at bay. It was an awkward phase for them socially, akin to human puberty.

Escaping was a group effort. They flung themselves as the observation window, scattering its pieces all over the adjoining room. From there, they were free. All of the doors leading into main body of the decontamination center were automated.

"What do regulations say about evacuations?" Riddick asked as he led them through the winding hall ways.

"We have to go off world. There's always the danger of out break here. We can't return to the surface until we've been screened," Kali explained, her breath becoming labored.

"And what if you don't go off world?"

"Riddick, if you don't leave the planet... they'll catch you. I sent a time released e-mail to the president. In twelve hours she'll know you're here."

"I get the picture," he affirmed. "But if we follow you off world, you're not gonna let me go then either... are you?"

"I can't," she admitted.

"Fair enough." Suddenly he halted, stretching his arm out to stop them as well. He held up a finger for silence. Something around the corner was hissing.


	12. Aliens

Author's Note: Yay, chapter twelve. Keep those reviews headed my way, I love reading them. Thought I'd take a moment to mention that I don't have anyone to help me edit my work, so if you see spelling errors or a massive overload of typos you should know they came directly from me. If anything reads poorly, let me know. I probably won't bother correcting trivialities, but if it's something major of course I'll look into it.

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

On his guard, Riddick inched around the bend, his hand poised over the hilt of a sheathed blade. "Coolant," he whispered back to them. Something had banged a good sized hole in the wall, tearing open a hose full of wall-chill. It was spewing its gaseous content out into the open. The leakage was pooling near the floor, creating a blanket about three feet thick. It was early-morning-fog white, and Riddick couldn't see a thing through it. 

"C'mon, then," said Jack, trying to hop in front of him.

"No," he kept her back, "That stuff'll freeze you 'till your frozen. It's so cold it burns."

"We can't go through it," Imam breathed, forlorn.

"There's no other way around," said Kali.

"If this is the way out, this is the way out," consented Riddick. He took Jack's arm and handed it to Imam, "Hold onto this for me," he ordered. Turning to Kali he demanded, "Give me your shirt."

"What?"

"Your shirt. You're not shy, are you?"

"What the hell do you need my shirt for?"

He pulled a dirk and threw it into the ceiling, right above the center of the swirling coolant. "You see that? It's my anchor. I need something that wont stretch to twist around it. My shirt won't cut it, the boy's is too small."

"And what about him?" Flustered, she pointed to Imam.

"He's a holy man." He grinned softly, "What's the matter? It's not all you got, is it?"

"No," she snapped.

He waited. She made a frustrated sound, then pulled it over her head. It was long and loose fitting, and thus came off easily. Beneath she wore a tight black tank top. She tried to pull it down as far as she could over her white stomach. Riddick didn't even seem to notice. He took the shirt from her quickly and rolled it tight.

"I'll be right back," he said lowly. Then, suspending the shirt between his fists like a rope, he leapt. In one fluid motion he wrapped the shirt firmly around the handle of the knife and used it to swing himself clear to the other side of the gas, taking her top with him.

They observed his flawless landing with shallow wonderment, too concerned with their flight to really acknowledge his unintended theatrics.

He flipped the shirt over his shoulder and walked on, knowing they would hold their collective breath until he returned. He was looking for an off switch. If he could stop the flow, the coolant would dissipate in no time. Humming deep in his throat, he scanned the walls... and stopped in his tracks. Up ahead, no more than a few feet, near the ceiling crouched a faintly luminous creature. Its hammer head swayed minimally from side to side, testing the space in front of it. It zeroed in on him. Riddick saw its flanks tense, could feel its readiness to kill. He poised himself for a counter.

It sprung from its perch, massive jaws open, tongue flailing, and claws extended to shred his torso. Riddick skid to the side, throwing the shirt in front of its face. Maneuvering behind it, he tied the garment around its head, sufficiently confusing its senses. It leapt this way and that, trying its best to home in on its prey. Riddick quietly pulled a shiv from its shin holster, and in a very blasé fashion struck the alien down, emptying its glow into a puddle.

Once it stopped spazzing he withdrew the shirt and sheathed the knife, then kicked the body to the side. Back to business. Sure enough, near by (oddly, almost directly beneath where the animal had stationed its self) there was a control box embedded in the wall. He pulled it open swiftly and flicked through the necessary switches.

He sauntered back casually. "Back up," he told them. Using her shirt he fanned the remaining coolant gas away. With out a word he handed it back to Kali. He didn't wait for her to replace it before turning around and continuing on. She wrapped it around her waist and hurried after.

Jack's breath caught when they passed the night flyer. She subtly knotted her fingers in Imam's robe. Sensing how suddenly upset she was, he made sure to keep her to the opposite wall.

"If you see one, don't move," Riddick droned, giving them (especially Kali) any instructions he thought they might need. "And If I pull a blade, get out of the way."

Kali, unbeknownst to the others, pressed a small button on her walkie-talkie. A tiny amber light flickered softy at her side. She still had a duty. He was an escaped con who'd killed dozens, she couldn't afford to let that skip her mind, not for an instant.

They came to a fork in the road and he started to turn right. "No, no," she directed, "This way. The one you came in in is closer."

She was right, soon the soft light from it could be seen. Red revolving bulbs twirled, and officials and resident civilians alike scrambled back and forth. People yelled and argued as they scuttled to escape, trying to make themselves heard over the monotonous screech of the sirens (a sound that raised blood pressures). Most of the space crafts were all ready gone, only two were left; a relatively good sized shuttle and the damned skiff.

Three people scrambled into the hall behind them. Riddick didn't happen to glance back at them, but Imam did. Two men flanked an older woman. The men appeared to be guards, not from Aliquis though. The woman, who's hair was creamy like her draped clothing, moved strangely. She seemed to be moving against a non-existent wind. The three were gaining on them. Imam peered into the darkness beyond them and promptly whipped his head around to front. Four of the creatures were stalking them.

Jack too looked behind. When she saw them she latched onto the bronze man's arm, "Riddick," she breathed.

He followed her panicked gaze, "I got you covered, kid." He pushed her into Imam's arms. "Keep going, don't wait for me." They didn't argue.

He waited for the extra three to rush by before arming himself. Time to cut. He inched backwards, drawing the animals closer to the light. They began advancing more quickly, snapping at each other like ancient earthly raptors as they went. They were bigger than the one he'd ghosted near the gas. One of them was almost fully developed, having lost all of its glow.

Then they attacked. As they tumbled together, meeting at their mark, they split supple flesh and tasted smooth blood.


	13. Shut Out

**Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

Riddick watched as the three predators devoured their listless comrade. _Cannibals_, he scoffed silently, as if that explained everything.

He crossed his arms in a moment of hesitation. Should he wait around to dispose of the others, or should he split? He decided the former was a waist of energy, all he needed to do was reach the bright hanger and he'd be rid of them. He continued walking backwards, conscientious of the fact that they could turn on him at any moment.

Jack, Imam, Kali, and the whole lot of them took to the hanger at a run. The older woman could only move so fast, so she and her party remained a good deal behind.

_C'mon, c'mon,_ Jack pleaded silently, wishing she could hear Riddick's boot steps thundering up behind them. They were almost within the comforting globe of light emanating from the open doors. So close she found herself stretching for it. Once they were in, Kali grabbed her hand, appending her between the two adults.

Kali drug Jack and Imam onto the waiting shuttle. It was crammed with escapees. Two guards had been waiting for them, alerted to their Secretary's needs by the little button she'd pushed. They held out their hands, beckoning her in. "Close it!" she yelled, even before they were aboard, "Close it!" The men obliged, and as they rushed in, the heavy bay doors began to shut.

"What about Riddick?" Jack asked Imam. He looked away from her to Ms. Rhiannon. "What about Riddick!" she insisted, her voice cracking. Kali ignored her, speaking loudly to a man about distance and time... pure drable.

Jack pulled away from Imam, trying to expel herself from the craft. Imam found his grip again and would not let her go. "No, Imam! He's coming. We can't leave with out him!"

"Have faith in Mr. Riddick," he coed in her ear. "He will find his way."

Riddick was running to beat the band, she could see him now. The flock of night flyers was right on his tail. She bit her lip in frustrated expectation. She glanced at the doors, they were closing too quickly.

He was pumping his arms as hard as he could, raw adrenaline driving his legs. The animals screeched behind him, their wings driving them closer and closer. Just a little further, just a little further. Bam, he broke into the light. The predators pulled back just in time, making a series of disappointed clicks. They did not leave. They surveyed the scene in front of them from the shadows, hoping.

Riddick could see it too, he'd never make it aboard the shuttle. Jack wouldn't believe it. She reached out to him, "Riddick!" He met her, and instead of giving her his hand like he knew she wanted, he handed her his shiv.

The thin opening was becoming a crack, "Stay in New Mecca."

She yelled behind her frantically, "Open the door! He's still out there!" Kali shook her head. She turned back to him, and her mind went blank, she didn't know what to say. She wanted to protest, wanted to hand him his knife back and tell him to stick it you-know-where, wanted to smack Ms. Stuck-Up-Bitch. Instead she quietly whimpered his name. She felt helpless.

He couldn't even admit to himself why he did it, but he made a promise, "I'll find you. I'll-" he set his expression hard, and his tone was firm, "_Stay in New Mecca_."

Her last cry was cut off by the big shuttle doors sealing.

He pulled his goggles down. So that was it... for now.

And there was still this problem of getting off the planet alive. He threw a few choice words into the air. The skiff. He looked up again, speaking to God, "Fuckin' insulting!" Irony... shit, was that all it was?

As the shuttle launched off, he jogged over to the banged up craft. It was then that he noticed them, the three others stranded just like him. The old woman was staring at him, so he turned his back. _Too bad, so sad._

He put his hand on the skiff, then immediately recoiled as if he had been burned. The thing was cursed, or as good as such. He got the distinct impression that it hated him. That it would do everything in its supposedly inanimate power to dispose of him if it could.

He shook his head and deliberately clamped back onto it. It wouldn't do to think such things, paranoia had gotten many a man he knew killed. He ran aboard.

Then, with out a fluid thought as to why, he ran off again. There was another hanger to be had. With other ships that wouldn't remind him of killer aliens, and women dying for him, and kids worshipping him, and holy men trusting him, and change. There was another hanger.

He left the skiff to the disposal of the stranded trio. His good deed for the day.

Back into the teeth. Using the wall to his full advantage, he snuck up on the waiting predators. He heard them squabbling, and peered around the corner to see why. Another was fading fast, and had almost gone completely dark. The other two had turned on it, forcing it to retreat down the hall.

Again, Riddick pulled his shades down and readied himself for a fight. He tensed, preparing to swoop out and around them. Right before he leapt, he stopped. A few feet away lay a discarded flash light. He hurried to it and checked its batteries. It worked. With out hesitation he strung it around his neck, letting it rest between his shoulder blades. If that little trick worked the first time...

He scooted carefully into the hall. The attention of the flyers was immediately grabbed. As soon as they realized he was pulsing with light, they returned to their original dispute. There was only one problem with this. In order to get to the other hanger he needed to back track. Their fight blocked his path.

Riddick turned around, pointing the light on his back at them. They shied away. He began walking backwards into them, his shivs at his side, just in case. He attempted to turn his head over his shoulder to see where he was going, but the light scorched his irises. He was charging blind and couldn't change that. He did the best he could to guide himself, using his hands to gauge the curve of the walls, and thus the hall.

He traveled a long ways, all the way to the fork. Unfortunately, instead of slithering out of the way, the creatures decided to flee down the same corridor he needed to travel, so Riddick was forced to keep up his methodical tracking. He could sense he was drawing near.

For the first time, he made a wish. He wished he'd find a craft still left in the hanger.

Sadly, as soon as he made that wish, life decided to crap on him again.

The bulb in the flash light popped.

As soon as he heard the sound he lashed out with a spinning hook kick. One of the aliens had pounced, flying through the air, aiming for his head. He forced it to the floor. All most feverish, he drove a blade through its neck. Before him was one more. He threw the knife, sending the blade in one side of its head and out the other. Everything was still.

Riddick stopped, rooting himself to the spot. Only his eyes moved, and his ears pricked up. Where was the other one? The dark one? They hadn't killed it, he hadn't passed any remains or stains of blue blood. Then he heard a gentle tapping, like claws on a hard surface. The sound was coming form behind him, and above. He pivoted, one eighty, and scanned the ceiling. Nothing. He heard it again, and rotated back. Nothing. It was playing with him. These predators acted different from the ones on the dark planet. They schemed. They planned. They stalked.

He broke for it, running as fast as he could. The flyer shrieked behind him and took up the chase. He reached the hanger. All was dark.

The lights were on a timer. There was a brief six hour period every day when the hangers shut down and no one was allowed to enter or exit the facility. That period had just begun. Riddick now not only had to find a craft and fly it free, but he also had to make it into the control room and turn on the automatic, launch sensitive doors (The hanger's separate power grid had prevented them from being left open).

Task number one: Find a damn single pilot craft... Before being skewered by the now massive predator.

* * *

Authors Note: No, this is not the end of Jack/Riddick interaction, never fear. Yeah, and um, I'm addicted to reviews, so... talk to me, people ;-) 


	14. Tasks

**Chapter Fourteen**

* * *

It was a sadistic game of hide and go seek. Large barrels and crates dotted the hanger floor, creating numerous places to disappear for a moment or two. Both he and the creature took full advantage.

He spotted the small tug almost immediately. The craft was tucked in an off set alcove. It was a slight thing, lots of power and pull but little get up and go. Large passenger ships used tugs to take them out of orbit, since they were only capable of traveling in supralight speed. Docking thrusters were all they had to supplement the smaller's efforts.

A tug was loaded with one jump, just in case. It had a one shot supradrive, so that a tug could double as an escape pod if needed. It was.

Riddick didn't make for it first. Why bother checking to see if it still had that jump? It was his only option. If it worked it worked. If it didn't... at least he'd go down fighting.

Onto task number two: Get into the control room.

He slid behind another crate.

Scratch that. Task number two: Get rid of the murderous tag along.

Needing to pin point its exact location, he unstrung the useless flashlight from around his neck and threw it into the open. The critter fell for it, pouncing like a rabid dog. He took a random glance at the crate and realized it was half opened, the crow bar still wedged between its lip and lid. As quietly as he could, he with drew it. By the time he was wielding it, the predator had lost interest in the small, unmoving object.

Moving with stealth, a fleshly specter, he relinquished his hiding place. The animal, sensing him, quirked its head to one side. After a beat it charged, jaws snapping wide. Riddick barreled into it, holding the crow bar vertically in front of him. The bar entered the predator's mouth and stuck, propping it permanently open.

It howled in frustration, swinging its head frantically from side to side. It skid across the floor, trying to back away from its inanimate tormentor, but to no avail. In a sudden burst of anger it lunged at Riddick once again, trying to run him through. Riddick skillfully spun away.

In an instant, the fifth predator of the night lay sprawled, dead on the floor.

All right, now it was time to find that control room.

To his left, very near the large, outer hanger doors, was another door. It was small, black, and seemingly insignificant, but he knew it must lead into the booth. He yanked it open fiercely, and found a narrow flight of stairs. Up he went. Then there was another door, to his left again. This too he barged through. Inside the only light came from a low, red work light on what oddly looked like a sound board.

With a slight shrug to himself, he started playing with things. He flipped every switch in sight, turned a few dials, but avoided all of the buttons. Buttons were bad, he'd had a nasty experience pressing buttons once. _Long, unimportant story_, he noted.

Through his tweaking and turning, he accidentally hit a play list who's volume had been left full bore. Engulfing, hard rock, vibrated in his chest. There were no words, just the stiff melodies, harsh beats, and rough rhythms. _Anthem of my life_, he thought with a grin.

x.X.x

"This is not right!" Jack stomped her foot to punctuate the point.

Kali turned on her, tired of the brat, "Look, kid, you've got it all turned around. I'm not sure how Riddick was able to brain wash you into believing he was some sort of god, but he's not. He's not common, no, but he _is_ a murderer. He killed innocent people. I won't let him go, _that's_ not right."

"Instead you left him to die!"

She bent down, almost pressing her nose against the disguised girl's, "If he's half the man you think he is, he'll live to see the inside of another cell." She stood up, adultly turning her back on the conversation, "Would he have let us live if he came aboard this ship? I told him I would hand him over. Do you think he'd take that for what it was and go with the flow? I saved your life, boy, and that burns you up." She walked off, swinging her hips dramatically.

Imam didn't say anything, but Jack warned him any way, "I don't want to hear it. Not from you too." She spun around, fore finger pointed accusingly at his face, "You betrayed him. He saved your ass and you'd sooner see him rot in a slam than free to save it again. You're a traitor." He gently concealed her raised hand in his, trying to succor her. She yanked it away, "Don't. Don't touch me."

Imam shook his head as he watched her stalk off, steam pouring out her ears. He frowned. She would be upset for quite some time, he knew. That wasn't what was bothering him, however. What to do with her when they reached New Mecca? What to do?

x.X.x

The doors were activated. All he had to do was hop in the tug and jet off. That was just what he did.


	15. To Catch A Riddick

**Chapter Fifteen**

* * *

It was four weeks before Imam and Jack were aloud to leave orbit. Kali and Imam parted pleasantly. He encouraged Jack to shake the secretary's hand and smile and say thank you. She took her hand reluctantly, but all that came out was, "Can't say it was any more fun for me."

Ms. Rhiannon waved at their passenger cruiser as it glided out of port. Her plastered smile cracked and fell away as soon as it was gone. It was good to be rid of them, they'd caused more trouble than any one in the history of her office.

The creatures had been captured and euthanized, every last one. It gave her no comfort. She shivered when she thought of them. Ten higher ranking officers had been lost, and over thirty underlings. She'd ordered two extra sweeps once they'd landed back on the surface, and would probably order one more before the week was out. She wouldn't be convinced the place was clean until she was confident the lingering smell of bleach was permanent.

With a tempered sigh she collapsed into the spinning chair behind her desk. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against her cold hand for a moment. There was a mountain of paper work to do, and she wasn't looking forward to it.

"Secretary Rhiannon?" came a voice over her intercom.

She clicked the mic on, "Yes," she replied, unable to mask the weariness in her voice.

"The President would like to speak with you. Video conference."

She nodded to herself, and swiveled to face her computer screen, "Patch her through." She sat up straight, and attempted to fix her frazzled hair. The image of a distinguished cafe au lait colored woman flickered to life in front of her. "Madam President," she addressed, stately.

"Rhiannon," she nodded, solemn, "Welcome back. I assume containment was one hundred percent."

"Not containment, extermination. We deemed the aliens too volatile to study. I'm afraid their origins will have to remain a mystery for now."

"All of the visiting dignitaries escaped unscathed, that's all I could ask for. I understand even our elemental envoy was able to free herself?"

Kali lowered her eyes. If she hadn't been so preoccupied with Riddick she would have realized that there were still important people in the hanger. Thankfully, the air elemental had been able to extricate herself and her body guards on her own. All with out being hacked to bits by the taut killer. Commendable.

The president noticed Kali's shamed expression, "Don't look so down trodden. It's hardly a blemish on an almost spotless record. But tell me, what of your convict?"

"I'm sorry Madam President. It's my fault he escaped. If I had informed you immediately, as soon as I had positively identified him, he would have been apprehended swiftly. It was a major laps in judgment on my part. I did not uphold my obligation, as a member of your elected cabinet, to bring him to justice."

"It's out of your hands now," she said sympathetically.

"No," a flame sprung up behind Ms. Rhiannon's eyes, "No it's not."

"Rhiannon, he is no longer under our jurisdiction. He hasn't been sighted any where in the Aquila system since the incident. You are not responsible for his capture."

"It's my duty. It's my fault he is not in maximum lock down where he belongs. I intend to remedy that," she folded her hands in front of her, displaying a steady confidence in her own abilities.

The president considered this for a moment, then, "I will allow you to organize a team to deal with the situation, on one condition. Don't turn this into some sort of vendetta, Kali. I'm ordering this as your chief officer of staff, and I'm asking as a friend. I should really hand this over to the Department of Inter-Stellar Justice."

Kali smiled, "Would you really want Bob Triman handling a case like Riddick?"

The president laughed lightly, "No, I suppose not. Truth is no one should be handling this case, including you."

"Let the next system deal with him, yadda yadda," she tossed her head minimally, "I know the campaign speech by heart. The policy is don't get involved."

Madam President squinted at her through the screen, "Are you sure you want to pursue this, Rhiannon? It's not... personal, is it?"

"No. No," she said, slow and introspective, "Nothing like that." But in a way it was. She had to do it for her. She made the mistake, now she had to fix it. The hunt was always more about the hunter than the hunted.

"Then promise me it won't become personal. I'm telling you, this could put our tails on the line if it gets out of hand."

Kali smiled a falsely assuring smile, "Don't worry, it won't. You have my word. I'm sorry, Madam, but I do have some lab workers that are badly in need of my assistance at the moment. I hate to leave you, but I must."

"I understand. Keep your nose clean. Good bye."

Kali turned the screen off and swiveled around to face the wall. There was no way she was going to track down, and more importantly obtain, Riddick with a sophisticated government team. You need a sleaze to catch a sleaze. She had and idea. A very illegal idea.

And on top of her idea, she even knew where to start: New Mecca. Home of acceptance, energy, and political revolution. And maybe, home to one fresh convict.

* * *

Author's Note: All right, so there are some COR tie-ins for you. The system Kali's planet's in, the elemental... yadda yadda. Next chapter on the way. A big thank you goes out to all of my faithful readers!


	16. Spice Of Life

**Chapter Sixteen**

* * *

For the first time in months, Imam let relief wash over him. He was on Helion Prime once more. He took Jack to his recently purchased home in the center of busy New Mecca. There he sent word to his new bride of his safety, promising to explain everything when she arrived. He had given his word that he would send for her once he had properly prepared their home, making it worthy of her. Now he asked her to wait just a few months more. He had loose ends that had to be tied before they could be reunited. He made no mention of his wife to the young girl.

While Imam was in his study sending his message, Jack explored the house. Nothing of interest was found on the first floor, so she eagerly made her way to the second. She ran her hand lightly over the banister as she ascended, noticing how clean it was. The place had been well taken care of in its owner's absence.

Unconsciously, her free hand wandered to the back of her pants, behind her right hip, where she had secured Riddick's shiv. She ran her thumb firmly over the hilt's butt as if it were a worry stone.

She first slipped out to the balcony, where she surveyed the city. She leaned over the edge, bracing herself against the railing, locking her elbows. She sighed, her feelings torn. It was a good home, no question. Imam was a good man, no question. But this could mean the end of her adventures. Maybe that wasn't so bad. She'd had a troubled and unstable child hood thus far, maybe it was time for a little security and trust to weasel its way in.

Though she felt a little confused, she was certain of one thing: from now on she was going to live with Imam.

She was just a child. Some times children don't understand.

She heard something behind her. A stiff creek. A door? The house was open air, the wind could have brushed by and caused a hinge or two to slip. She shook her head. She'd been through a lot, she was overly sensitive.

Pushing away from the railing, she strolled back in to the hall. She put her hand on her head, and laughed quietly to herself. For a moment she had expected to meet soft hair. Instead she ran her fingers over course stubble. She was so jumbled up inside she was getting her 'then' and 'nows' mixed up. She raised the other arm and ran both palms over her scalp, savoring the rough feel of her boyish style. It represented so much to her. It represented who she had become. It was Jack.

She pushed open a door and discovered a small room with shelves piled with trinkets and candles. The shudders were closed, and the hour was late, so the room was more than dim. Being the snoop she was she reached for a small box an a lower shelf and opened it. Its contents smelled spicy and she sniffed it with a slight frown.

She heard the creek again and ignored it. Just the wind.

Placing the box where she found it, she turned to her right to investigate that shelf. She shrugged slightly when she found nothing to play with. She decided to ask Imam what it was in the box that smelled so strong. She reached for it, and discovered it was gone.

A chill invaded her brain. She spun around. The door was closed. She hadn't shut it.

She felt it happening, but couldn't stop it. It was as if her mind had been severed from her body. She was willing it to move, to scream, but it did nothing. A man pressed himself into her back, and a massive hand slowly encompassed her mouth. She was paralyzed. The attacker made no sound.

Smoothly, he reached between them and found the shiv's grip. Carefully, he retrieved it, moving with pain staking preciseness. Once it was free of her flesh her senses magically returned to her. Her hands flew to his wrist, clawing savagely. She tried kicking behind her, but never made contact. Swiftly, he twisted his paw out of her clutches, caught both her wrists, and spun her around in front of him.

She found herself staring into the eyes of an animal. She stopped struggling. His lips were pursed thin, and his expression was searching. He raised the knife in front of her, displaying it fully. "This is mine," he said roughly.

"Then take it," she spat harshly, throwing him off.

"Took you long enough to get here," he said casually, placing the spice box on its shelf.

"I'm going to tell Imam you're here," she said, her voice scratchy.

He looked sideways at her, amused, "Threat?"

"Better believe it." She inched towards the door.

"Are you mad at me?" he growled mischievously, with out a hint of regret.

She put her back to him and grabbed the door knob. She paused for a beat, then jerked it open. She flew down the hall, the stairs, and into the study. She wasn't running away from Riddick, she was running to beat him. She was going to announce his arrival first. Imam put his arms around her when she stumbled into him, panting. "He's back," she told him.

"In the house?" He furrowed his brow. The child was seeing shadows.

"Upstairs."

"Downstairs," came Riddick's voice as he unconcernedly appeared and entered the room. His gaze was fixed on the girl, "You didn't answer me."

Imam moved between them, being as protective as he could. "I... I did not expect to see you again," he said honestly.

"I had to come back," he tossed the knife from hand to hand skillfully. He stopped, dangling it blade down in front of his face, "For this."

_Grand excuse_, Jack thought, but kept her mouth shut. She knew it was only wishful thinking, but she hoped he had come back for more than just a blade. He seemed to dispose of those quick enough any way.

"Now you have it. What will you do?" Imam asked.

His eyes never trailed from Jack's, "Maybe see some sights." She bent her head and smiled behind her hand. As if to wipe her disguised grin away, he added, "But I can't stay long." She straightened up.

Imam was nervous, as he usually was around Riddick, but he did feel he owed him something. "Let me prepare a room for you."

Riddick put his arm up and leaned into the door jamb, "Naw. I can fend for myself."

"Please," Imam insisted. "Jack," he peered at her, "Upstairs, at the end of the hall to the right there are some bed things."

"So?"

Imam rolled his eyes at her audacity, "Will you please retrieve them for Mr. Riddick?"

"I said I'm fine," Riddick rumbled, rolling out of the door way.

Imam and Jack followed him out. He was all ready halfway up the stairs. "You go a shower?"

Imam pointed, swallowing harshly.

Riddick swaggered into the bathroom and pulled off his shirt. He slapped his hard stomach lightly and scratched, he was hungry. He'd rifle through the kitchen once he was clean.

He cocked his head to the side, listening. "You didn't answer my question," he said, turning to find Jack in the door way, mimicking the manner with which he had stood in the study entry.

She frowned, "I don't have to."

He turned on the shower. The room began to steam up. He sat on the side of the tub, his knees akimbo, waiting for her to leave.

She had to ask him something fist. She needed to know, "How long?"

"Not long."

"You gonna be here tomorrow?"

He stood up, unbuckled his belt and pulled it free from his pant loops. He took a quiet step towards her, and rested his fingers on the open door's handle. He began closing it, and she was forced to move out. Right before he snapped it shut he answered, "Yeah, I'll be here."


	17. Night Watchers

**Chapter Seventeen**

* * *

He slept on the roof that night, with his goggles in place. Helion Prime was always warm, and New Mecca was always bright. The city was alive and buzzing with activity at all hours. The lights from the business district flooded the others, going so far as to blot out the stars. Riddick didn't like that. After spending a few good years in and out of slams and cryo-sleep he welcomed a wide, diamond-speckled space above his head. Space was a constant that couldn't be screwed with. Except in one place, in a city. Cities destroyed night skies, and he detested them for it. 

He slept lightly, as usual. There was almost no such thing as REM for him. Most people need deep sleep. Riddick apparently did not. How he avoided dreams and still recharged enough to do all he did was a mystery he'd never tinkered with. He always figured it was better if he didn't dream. They always drained him, reduced him. They were a way for his unconscious to torment him, nothing more.

Jack couldn't sleep at all. The bed was too soft and the pillow was too deep. She kicked the covers back and forth, trying to get comfortable. No such luck. With a frustrated growl through clenched teeth she shoved the whole mess to the floor. She sat up, hugging herself sorely. Yanking one of the thin blankets up and onto her shoulders, she hopped out of bed. She was antsy and wanted to move. She didn't want to disturb Imam, however, so she decided to climb up to the roof to be by herself for a while.

She didn't know Riddick was there. After Dinner he had leapt out a window like a big cat, muscles gliding tight and beautiful under his thin human skin. He was gone in a flash. She ran to the window and scanned the streets, but had been unable to spot him.

At the top of the fire escape she halted, staring at the sky. She too was disheartened by the masked stars. Suddenly she felt like she was being watched. Jerking her eyes over the roof top she caught him. He lay flat on his back, his arms behind his head with his face turned towards her. She jumped in surprise, and took two hurried steps back the way she'd come. Hesitating, she looked at him again. His chest was rising and falling, heavily and steadily. He was asleep.

She crouched on the top step, observing him from a calculated distance. His expression was full of contradiction, both placid and tormented. He was interesting just to look at, so different from his fellow man. His mixed ancestry gave him alluring and difficult feeling features. He was handsome, but not consumingly so. His body on the other hand- it was enough to take any one's breath away. It was unbelievably perfect, exactly what the male form should be. Taunt and hard, and yet he was able to move with liquidity and accuracy. Even in sleep he appeared ready to pounce.

Unbeknownst to her, he sensed her and had stirred from his sleep. Now he too was taking his company in. She looked so innocent, squatting there like a little toad. You'd never guess she'd been through hell and back; not until you got up close and looked her in the eye. He wondered for the first time what she looked like as a proper girl. He tried, but couldn't imagine it. He pushed the attempt aside. For now she wanted to be a boy, and that was fine with him. It was none of his business, really. No body's business but her own.

Eventually he'd had enough of her penetrating gaze, "I don't like being watched," he said gruffly, unshifting.

Again she jumped, almost right out of her skin. She awkwardly caught herself before she rolled down the stairs. "I thought you were asleep," she explained, almost apologetic.

"Wish I was," he turned his head to the sky.

"What are you doing out her?" she asked, crawling on her hands and knees a few feet closer to him.

"Watching."

"Watching what?"

_I'm watching over you. Don't make me try to tell you why... I don't even know. _He came back with a smart ass remark, "The inside of my eye lids."

She laughed an airy, fake laugh. "Oh."

"What you doin' out here?"

She shrugged, and replied playfully, "Watching."

He grinned sideways, "Watching me?"

"Yeah. I'm watching you."

His smile disappeared. She had said what he'd choked down. She was brave in a way... in a way he could be, but by his own admission wasn't. She was brave enough to lay herself in front of him. With that statement she'd left herself naked to his mercy. He could step on her, walk over her, or take her and run. She was brave enough to tell the truth.

"Go back to bed."

She crawled still closer. "Can't I stay out here with you?"

That had caught him off guard, "Why?"

Jack stopped her approach. How was she supposed to answer? She hadn't expected him to demand a reason, she thought he'd give her a clean cut 'yes' or 'no'. She was with out a witty response, so she made a decision. She bit her lip and stood up, moving to leave him be.

"No," he said, waiving limply at her, "You can stay. I just... I'm not used to people wanting to be decent."

Slowly, testing the waters, she walked stiffly to his side. His goggles made her uneasy, she couldn't tell if he was looking at her or not.

"Sit," he commanded, and she obeyed.

A silence settled between them. It wasn't uncomfortable, just loaded. Her thoughts wandered back to T2, and then to Aliquis. Another curiosity surfaced with in her, and another question was born. "Riddick?"

"Hmm?" he purred quietly.

"Why- How is it that you have no fear? I don't ever want to be afraid either."

"No fear? I have fear. More than the average man. You can't do what I do with out it."

"If your scared, how can you fight? Why don't you run?"

"Because you face your fears," he said forcefully, giving her a lesson.

"What about the slam?"

"I ain't scared of any slam."

"What are you scared of?"

It was his turn to give over a piece of himself. "Dying." He turned his head towards her, "As long as I fight I live. That's all I know."

* * *

Author's Note: Just thought I should mention that I believe in acknowledging beauty for beauty's sake... i.e., when Jack's observing his perfect body it's not so much in a sexual way. 


	18. Nothing Happened

Author's Note: I'm thinking about changing the chapter titles up in the menu to real names instead of numbers. Would that make it easier to navigate? It might be easier for a new reader to figure out where they left off that way. Could I get your opinions?

**Chapter Eighteen**

* * *

She fell asleep first, right next to him. He watched her breathe for an hour. She was curled up, facing him. He couldn't stop staring. To him she was a paradox. She couldn't be what she was, and yet... she was. Tough and innocent, naive and worldly, unafraid yet so scared. 

Eventually he moved. He could feel her body heat and it was disquieting.

She shivered and unconsciously hugged the blanket tighter around her, but did not wake up.

He sat on the edge of the roof, one foot dangling over. He fondled the blade he had taken back from her. He remembered being up in the tug, punching in the quardinants before making the jump to supralight. He had started by typing in the quardinants of the Lupus system. He'd enjoyed himself on Lupus Two, for the month he'd been there before the mercs came. But then he had remembered what had slipped from his lips in the hanger. _I'll find you._ What in the name of all planets had possessed him to make a promise like that? A promise he couldn't keep.

But he _had_ kept it. After all, she had something of his. She should be made to return it.

So he told the tug to make for Helion Prime.

Why? Why would a little girl attach herself to him. He could provide her with nothing. Surely she must see that?

He pulled his hanging leg up under him, preparing to leap across to the next building. If he left now he could end it before it had even started. The longer he stayed the worse it would be for her. Besides, what did he need a kid draping herself over his shoulders for? This was his chance to be free. He needed to go. Now.

He pushed his toes into the bricks. The rest of his legs remained frozen.

_Yeah, I'll be here._

_Liar._

"Fine," he whispered, pulling back from the edge, "For now." He walked towards her, stopping a few feet away. He lowered himself, laying down. She'd see. In the morning he'd be there, just as he promised.

Imam awoke the next morning with a start. He strolled sleepily to the room he'd given Jack and knocked. The sun was all ready high, they'd both over slept. "Jack?" he called softly. She did not answer, so he knocked again. Cautiously, with his eyes on the floor, he opened the door a crack, "Jack?" His gaze darted up for an instant, long enough to take in the empty bed and the blankets scattered across the wood floor.

He moved downstairs, still calling her name, "Jack?" She wasn't in the kitchen, nor the living room. His search became steadily more frantic. "Jack?" He exited the house, looking up and down the street. On a hunch he made for the roof.

He climbed the stairs quickly, and let out a sighed of relief when he saw her, but tensed once more when he discovered she was not alone. Riddick was very near (too near for Imam's comfort), with his body angled towards her.

As is to be expected, Riddick awoke as soon as Imam joined them. He stood swiftly.

With out a word Imam descended. A look of disappointment shrouded his features. Riddick followed him down and into the kitchen. Imam began making breakfast in silence.

"Imam." he said quietly.

"I do not know how they do things..." he trailed off. No, he knew exactly how they did things were Riddick came from.

"Nothing happened." Riddick said deeply, daring the holy man to accuse him of indecency. "You know me better than that."

"Do I?" he revolved to face him. Riddick blinked and looked down; he was right, he didn't know him. Imam shook his head, turning back to his work, "I'm sorry."

Riddick pulled a chair from the table and sat, clenching his hands together in front of him.

"I know you wouldn't hurt her," Imam continued, "I see that now. You saved us both, you deserve more trust."

_I don't deserve any trust_, he said to himself. The thought saddened him slightly, but he did not let it disturb his hard exterior. He rubbed his eyes wearily. "I knew this was a mistake," he said, "It was all a mistake."

"Protecting life is never a mistake."

"I should go," he stood steadily.

Imam nodded, his voice soft, "If you must."

Riddick turned to leave. Barring his path was Jack. Neither man knew how long she'd been standing there. "Go where?" She asked darkly.

He looked and Imam, then back at her, "Into the city."

Imam paused. He knew that wasn't what Riddick had meant by 'I should go.'

"I need to get a few things before I can go for good." He slid sideways past her, "I'll be back before dinner."

The house was quiet that day. Imam spent his time readying the house for his wife. So Jack was, for the most part, left to her own devices. She amused her self for a while skimming through the library. Most of his books were from Old Earth. She wasn't very familiar with the planet or its system, so she didn't know what to expect. One of them was an ancient copy of a si-fi novel. Flipping through the pages she began to laugh. _Reality is stranger than fiction_, she thought. This Isaac Asimov was one creative individual, if nothing else.

Then there were the plays. He had a whole shelf dedicated to some guy named William Shakespeare. She opened one called 'Much Ado About Nothing', and soon closed it again. The man wrote gibberish.

She moved on to a book from Tarattis Four. It was called He Is Me, by Girsha Kar. It too was a novel. She hastily read the jacket, then palmed it under her shirt. She made her way back up to her room and shoved it under the bed. She lay down, burring her face in the pillow.

On the back cover of the book there was a poem. It was entitled the same at the novel its self.

Do you see what's in the mirror?

I look in, but nothing is clearer.

Do you see?

Let me be.

Do you see where he comes from?

The hollow, deep and terrible slum.

Do you see?

It is the key.

Do you see where he's going?

No you can't, I hate not knowing.

Do you see?

Set him free.

Do you see why he does these things?

How he flies on deep gold wings?

Do you see?

Forget my plea.

Do you see what's in his eyes?

They capture all, fear and lies.

Do you see?

Let them be.

Do you see who he really is?

His sole is electric. Crack. Fizz.

Can't you see?

He is me.

She sat up again, smiling broadly. After dinner she'd start reading.

Riddick came back before dusk, empty handed. She was waiting for him, straddling the banister. He frowned at her slightly, then walked by into the kitchen with out a word. She jogged after him. He extracted a plate of cold sliced chicken from the refrigerator and sat down with it, using only his fingers to feed himself.

She sat opposite him, spinning the chair around to straddle it as well.

He glanced up momentarily, but continued his methodical consumption. When there were only a few pieces left he pushed the plate to her. She pushed it back, turning up her nose, "Nah, I already ate."

He finished it off. Licking his fingers, he asked, "Letting your hair grow out?"

She scratched her head, "No. I haven't had a chance to shave it down since we got here."

He took the plate to the sink. "Leave it. Looks good." He left the kitchen, again she skipped after. "Where's Holy Man?"

She raised one shoulder, leaning against the wall, "Some where. In his bedroom, maybe?"

He smiled mischievously, "Good. Then he doesn't know I'm here yet."

She bit her thumb nail, "What does that mean?"

"Means you and I can have a little fun."

She straightened up and repeated herself, "What does that mean?"

"Meet me on the roof."

* * *

Author's Note: I don't know what it is, but something about this chapter bugs me. Hmm... how do you guys feel about it?


	19. The Sleaze

Author's Note: I decided to name chapter 18 'Nothing Happened' for one main reason: Nothing really happened in that chapter, at all. It was a low point, I apologize. I think I was trying to drag this story out too much. In this chapter you'll get to see another layer of Kali's personality. I'll try to speed things up, I promises. I think there will be more ass kicking in chapter 20, if not then therepositively will be in chapter 21.

**Chapter Nineteen**

* * *

As Kali drove away from the facility, into the country side, she pulled out her cell and dialed quickly. "Hello, is this Matthew Dragnet?" She blushed a little, "Hi Matt. This is Kali Rhiannon. Do you remember me?" 

"How could I forget?" came the oily male voice, "I saw you on the news the other night. Trouble in paradise?"

"Being on the president's cabinet is hardly paradise."

"You know, I voted for the other guy."

She rolled her eyes, "You would."

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure? Seeing as how you haven't called me in nearly three years," he sneered.

"Matt, I didn't call to pick a fight."

"Of course you didn't. Don't worry, I understand completely. I don't exactly do a politician's rep any good. You know what I _do_ do good..."

"Shut up."

"Sorry, Miss Tight Ass. Being in the public eye certainly hasn't helped improve your sense of humor."

She pulled to the side of the road, "Look, I know how you get when you're on the phone. For you it's play time."

"You used to like that."

"Yeah, well... This is business."

"Why don't you come by the house?"

"I Don't think so."

"Why not? We used to have lots of fun over here. I still have the scar from when-"

"No, Matt. I'm not interested in starting up again, so you can zip your pants."

"You know me too well."

"Would you shut up? I'm trying to ask you a favor." She stepped out of the vehicle and leaned against the hood. She looked up and down the highway. It was completely deserted. Before he could insert another cocky comment she continued, "How's your cousin Ricky?"

"Same as always," he said, disgusted that she'd changed the subject.

"That's what I was counting on. Can you call him for me? If he still runs with the same crowd, chances are he can get me in touch with the kind of people I'm looking for."

"What's this?" He asked, dripping with satisfaction, "Little prim and proper politician wants some one to pull a job for her? You just made my day, baby."

She gagged dryly. Three years ago she'd been young and stupid. She'd dated Matt simply because everything about him was slick and fast. Now she knew it was all chalked up to the gallon of grease in his hair. "Call me back after you talk to him. I'll tell you where he should meet me and when."

"You know I'll be there too."

"I'm hanging up now."

"Suit your-" she flipped the phone shut, ending the vulgar conversation.

She met the men on a dock far from her office, seven hours past sun set. Crates were stacked up high left and right, and the smell of fish was heavy in the air. She saw Ricky first.

"Hey there Miss Kali," he said, shaking her hand, "How ya been?"

"Not so good. I need to hire some one to take care of a problem for me."

Matt moved out of the shadows and came up behind her, grabbing her buttocks firmly, "Hey, Sweet Ass."

She elbowed him in the ribs. He backed off with an 'Oof.' "Touch me again and It'll be you who ends up with a mercenary at his front door."

"Looking for a Merc?" asked Ricky.

"I am. The best you can get me."

He lit a cigarette and placed it between his lips, sucking in softly, "Who's the target?"

"You might have heard of him: Richard Riddick."

He pulled the cig from his mouth, "Richard B? Hell, I heard of 'im. Naw, naw. You got this all wrong," he said expertly, talking with his hands. The cigarette's smoke made hazy patterns between them. "You need a team for this guy. It'll cost a pretty inter-stellar cred or two."

She put her hands in her pocket and narrowed her eyes, "How much?"

"Today? 85K."

"85? Are you screwing with me?"

"She ain't used to handling big money, cuz," Matt commented.

"I handle more credits every day than you'll ever see in a life time," she spat, warning him to keep it shut. She shook Ricky's hand again, "You'll get your money."

He flicked the cigarette aside, "I'll have your teem assembled in two days, tops."

"Two days?"

"You want the best, don't you? The best take time."

"Fine. In two days meet me here with your 'team.' Then I'll give you your credits and the system he's in." She walked away, but called over her shoulder, "You better not be here Matthew!"

"I'll be thinking' about you tonight, Kali," He said through his shit-eating grin. He high fived his cousin.

"Bite me," she said under her breath.

The 144 hours went by agonizingly slow for Secretary RhiannonEvery time she was paged she jumped. She'd never done anything illegal before, except for that one minor indiscretion in high school. It made her edgy. She was scared to death of being found out. She justified her actions in her mind again and again, _You're ridding the galaxies of a serial murderer, these are necessary measures. _Some how, it didn't make her feel any less guilty about abusing the system she had sworn to protect.

She took steps to disguise herself before driving back out to the sea side. She put on a pair of large sunglasses and tied her hair up under a hat. She also decide to forgo her tell-tail loose clothing, and instead wore one of her black undershirts and a set of her old jeans.

"Interesting look, babe," said Matt, walking up to greet her.

"I thought I told you to beat it," she said, deciding it was all right to drop all professionalism. She grabbed a small duffel bag out of the trunk.

"Don't I get a kiss hello?" he spread his arms out, offering a hug.

She shoved him hard in the chest, "You didn't come out here thinking you'd get a piece of ass, did you?" She shouldered the bag and bumped past him.

Ricky was huddled with a group of six others, four men and two women. "Ah, and here she comes," he said, pointing.

One of the women, who wore her long black hair in a braid, brushed by him to stand in front of her. She placed her hands defiantly on her hips. "And when the target asks who our generous benefactor who put the bounty on his head is, we should say..?"

"Anonymous," Kali answered, mirroring her attitude filled stance, "As most of your clients like to remain, I'm sure."

The woman chewed the inside of her lip for a moment, then extended her hand for Kali to take. "I'm Will." She indicated the men first, "That's Fuse, Mac, Wake, and Gatback. Chica's my little sister, Dawn."

Ricky put Dawn in a head lock and messed her hair up, "She's new to the game, but she's catching on quick." She pushed him off, frowning deeply.

"So where do we find Mr. Payday?" Asked Will.

The secretary took in the teem. She didn't know much about quality mercenaries, but if they were one fourth as tough as they looked and half as discreet they should do fine. "Helion Prime, New Mecca. Richard B. Riddick."

Will nodded. However, Gatback protested, "Riddick? Hey, Will, you didn't say nothin' about goin' after a Merc killin' freak."

"Cop it, Gat. Does it matter what I tell you? I say where we go and when. You got a problem with your share of the 80K? 'Cause I can whittle it down if it's too much for you to handle."

Before Kali could say anything Ricky reassured her, "The other five's for me. Handler's fee."

"The plan's in the bag," confirmed Will, "We'll take the job."

Kali handed the duffel bag to Ricky and returned to her car. To her disappointment, Matt was still there, admiring the rims. "Give me a call once you hear from Ricky about my man, and not a minute before." She slipped behind the wheel.

Before she could go he leaned in the window, "So what'd this guy do to you, any way? Break your heart?"

She shifted into reverse and backed out quickly, forcing him to pull away before the car popped his head off. She yelled back at him before gunning it, "No one breaks my heart."


	20. Filling In The Empty Spaces

Author's Note: This chap's really short, I know. Oh well, it is what it is.

**Chapter Twenty**

* * *

"Come here," he beckoned for her. Riddick was standing on the lip of the roof, the heals of his boots hanging over the edge. Carefully, Jack joined him, facing the expanse beyond. Her balance wasn't as good as his. He pivoted expertly to face the same direction. He placed his hand millimeters in front of her belly, just in case she slipped. She bit the inside of her cheek, weary of her present surroundings. "Close your eyes." 

Showing a tremendous amount of trust, she did so with out hesitation. For a moment she rocked on the balls of her feet. He twisted his fist into the hem of her shirt to steady her. When she was stable, he gently let go, letting her stand on her own. "What's it like?" he asked.

"Empty. Like I could step off and fall forever."

"Is it good?" He scanned her face. Her features revealed everything before she said anything.

"It's scary," she said flatly.

He nodded. "Good." It felt that way every time he took a leap. Just knowing that if he fell short he'd fall down for good was enough to drive him into focus. Fear helped him to center himself. It was some how comforting to know that standing on the brink made her feel the same way. _One more connection to humanity._

"I wish I could fly," she said absently, eyes still held shut. His own irises traveled to the sky, but he didn't say anything.

"Jack!" Imam had once again been forced to search for her, and when he discovered her on the roof, practically poised to jump, he was shaken and couldn't help but call out.

He had surprised them both. Jack lost her balance and jerked forward. Riddick set his jaw and caught her reflexively, pulling her to himself. He glared at Imam, who was rushing to them.

"Riddick, I have been-"

"Tolerant. I know."

Imam escorted Jack away from the edge to the center of the roof. "Please," he begged her, "Do not come up her any more."

She pulled away from him, "I will if I want to."

"No," said Riddick, "He's right." She hadn't been in any danger, not until the holy man had decided to sneak up on them, any way. Even so, they were in his house. Imam could call the police any time he wanted to. If he felt it was time for Riddick to go, he would have to go.

The tunic-clad man turned to him and smiled greatfuly, "Thank you." He laid an assuring hand on Jack's shoulder that did not linger, then retreated down the fire escape.

Riddick swallowed. Another window had just been opened. Imam respected him. He'd shown it, plain as day, in his smile. Maybe saving a man's life really did count for something. Once again, his understanding of his fellow man was rattled.

Jack nodded in the direction of the stairs, "We don't really have to do what he says, you know?"

Riddick shook his head, "We should."

She ran up beside him and peered over into the ally way below, "It's not that far."

"Far enough."

She looked up into his face, searching for an answer to her question before she asked it, "Why?" He shrugged and turned, striding towards the escape. She was on his tail. She reached out and caught the back of his shirt, "Why'd you wanna show me that?"

He halted and spun around. She bit her lip expectantly. He held up his palm in front of her, "Give me a punch."

She raised an eyebrow, not sure if he was serious. Apparently he was. She shrugged, what the heck? She balled her fist and took a swipe, landing it smack dab in the middle of his hand. When she made contact he closed his fingers over hers. Her hand completely disappeared in his.

He bent down slightly, "You'll have to work on that," he said, dropping her fist. Then he was gone, down into the house.

x.X.x

"Helion Prime," Will commented, spirited. "What's in the bag she left for us, Dawn?"

The team was rolling through space towards the Helion system. Will was piloting the craft, Fuse sat beside her. Dawn unstrapped herself and swept the duffel bag into her lap. She shuffled through its contents rapidly, "Looks like hard copy files and some notes. A folder for Riddick and one for some guy named Abu Imam al-Walid. She's also got a thing here on a kid. I'll look it all over before we touch down. Oh, and what's this?" She pulled out a stack of paper credits, "Something to wet our appetites?"

"Whoa," Wake reached out for the money, but Dawn held it out of his reach. "No private party ever hands out creds in advance."

"This chick's serious," Will noted.

"We all ready for cryo?" asked Fuse, "Puppy's geared up for supra when ever we wanna make the jump."

"I'm ready," affirmed Dawn, "But bring us out early so I can read all this stuff and we can get aquatinted with these three boys in the bag."

They hooked themselves in, individually shoving the IVs that carried the cryo juice into their own arms. As soon as their eyes fluttered shut it seemed like they were opening again. The trip felt instantaneous. The ship woke them gently, letting them know they were drawing near to the desired destination.

Dawn read the files and Kali's notes out loud to the crew. When she was done they went about discussing a strategy. "No, we can't do that," scoffed Will, plowing down a stupid suggestion from Gatback. "We need an in. We've got to get to him. We know he won't come quietly, and we all want to get out of there in one piece."

"The kid..." said Mac quietly, almost to himself.

They all perked up and turned their full attention on him. "Now there's an idea," nodded Will with a smile.


	21. Party's Over

Author's Note: Look, and update! Remember, the real world beckons, and occasionally I'm forced to dwell there instead of in the pages of my ridiculous works. Plus, I do write every day,but most of the things I'm currently working on aren't FF. Some times my original pieces take priority over fan stuff. Any way, I'm not too pleased with this chapter, basically because I think it's poorly written. But then again, I don't know... I'm usually pretty hard on myself. Reviews appreciated! I love you all!

**Chapter Twenty One

* * *

**

Over the next week an a half they fell into a routine. Imam would do his own thing, leaving Jack to her own devices. Riddick would go out into the city and come back unburdened. In the evenings they had their private moments. He always had something to show her, to inadvertently teach her. When ever she asked him why, he'd always thrust the question aside and ask her to punch him. Before he left for the roof every night, she asked if he would be there the next day. The answer was always the same, "Yeah, I'll be here." 

He was conflicted about the way he treated Jack. He was using her, and he knew it. He used her as a confidante, expressing himself to her in ways he'd never been able to with adults. Some how, filling her up with pieces of himself made him feel less empty. Deep down, it felt wrong to do. More wrong than it had ever felt to slice a man's jugular and leave him writhing on the floor. He knew he was burdening her, though she didn't show it.

He also used her as an anchor. As long as she kept asking him if he was going to be there when she woke up, he'd say yes. And as long as he said yes he couldn't leave. He couldn't break his promise.

And as the days rolled by, Jack became more and more intrigued by him, and there for more attached. He could see it. He didn't want it, but he didn't do anything to push her away. She was the first person to make him feel guilty since before he entered the penal system.

She took great pleasure in watching his eyes. That was off putting to him. He was used to his steely stare having a more sobering affect. She grew so intent on staring at them that he chose to keep his goggles on more often than not.

One morning, she was at the front door waiting for him. "Can I go with you today?"

He tilted his gaze towards Imam's study, almost as if he were waiting for the holy man to jump in and deliver him from answering.

"He said it's all right," she informed him hopefully.

"Keep up," he replied blandly, exiting the house.

She trotted along happily beside him. She wanted to know what he did every day. He was gone for hours and came back with nothing, after all. He moved rigidly through the throngs of morning commuters, not ever turning to make sure she was still there or laxing his pace. She tried to focus on tailing him, but colorful shops and bellowing venders kept her eyes revolving. It was good to be out of the house.

He brought her to the steps of the New Mecca public library. It was a bit puzzling, but Jack didn't ask questions. They scampered through the massive pillars and gigantic double doors. He made a beeline for the inter-stellar informational archives, located in the rear.

Taking out a concealed holo-disk, he placed it in the projector. A three dimensional map of the galaxy sprung to life. Using an optical pointer (provided by a librarian), he began picking out systems and scanning the planets.

"This is where you go every day?"

"Most days," he replied, not looking up from his work.

"Why?"

"Need some place to go after I split this rock, don't I?" He was searching for some planet to disappear to. One with few people and little to no tech reliance. Truth was, he'd all ready found several places that were to his liking. He kept looking because he convinced himself that he had to find the perfect one. It had to be some place no one would expect him to go. A place no one would want to follow him to even if they found him out.

Except for a young woman, sitting in a chair near the entrance in the opposite wall, they were alone. She was reading a magazine, but it seemed that her attention was really else where. Riddick had seen her before. She'd been sitting in the same place for the last three days, eyeing different issues of the same title. He was beginning to think she was after more than the answers to the latest cross word puzzle.

"Why don't you go pick out a book or some thing?" he suggested to Jack. Reluctantly, she went, muttering under her breath about all ready having one.

He spent another minute poking at the digital images before retracting the disc. Holding it loosely, he walked in the young woman's direction, appearing finished for the day. Stumbling slightly, as if he tripped over his own boots, he dropped the disc at her feet.

She looked up, smiled understandingly, then bent to pick it up for him. He reached down at the same time, but caught her wrist instead of the file. "Haven't I seen you here before?" he growled.

She suddenly looked pleased. She had been hoping he'd notice her. "I was here yesterday."

"And the day before."

She nodded shyly, "Yes."

He twisted her arm slightly, a seemingly uncalled for action. She grimaced as her skin chafed beneath his grip. "What do you want?"

She glared at him, baring her teeth, "Look, fella, I don't know what your game is, but where I come from the big-and-bad, 'I can slap you around some' act isn't considered a real turn on."

"Yeah? Where I come from-" He knew where to go. His free hand shot up her pant leg to her shin holster. He pulled the gun out and aimed it steadily at her, "Ladies don't need guns to go to the library."

She shot to her feet, whipping out another fire arm from behind, "That's not what I hear. Slam's can be treacherous places. A woman should always be prepared."

They stood there silent for a moment, an arm's length away, each staring down a dark barrel.

"See, kid," came another woman's voice from behind. "I told you, Dawn. All you gotta do is wait it out for a little while, and the lion will jump into the pin on his own."

Riddick didn't turn to appraise the new company. "Mercs," he spat contemptuously.

"What?" Dawn sneered through her pearly whites, "Not happy to see us? We've been dying to meet you."

"You two think you can ghost me on your own?"

"Ghost you?" scoffed Will, "I don't think that's what our employer had in mind."

"Worth more alive than dead?" he smiled wickedly, "Why don't these fuckers ever learn?" Daringly, he stepped into the woman in front of him, holding the muzzle of the gun against her temple. In response, her weapon made contact with his jaw line. "Scream," he whispered, "I dare ya."

Will tutted loudly, strolling unconcernedly up beside him. "You wanna blow the little 'un's brains out? Go ahead. So I'm down one crew member, and have one less sibling to send holiday greeting cards to, so what? But, then again," she tapped her lips mockingly with her pointer finger, feigning deep consideration, "She _is_ my sister. Ah, what the heck? Do it any way." She grinned widely, "You take one of mine, I'll take one of yours. Then we'll call it even."

"I got the kid, where do you want him?" Gatback asked, appearing from behind in the same stealthy fashion Will had. With him was Jack, sufficiently bound and gagged.

Riddick revolved, his head reeling. Fuse and Wake stepped in, both pushing large blasters into the base of Jack's scull. He held his ground, his features contracting with channeled, shame-induced rage. Next, enter Mac. He put the icing on the cake. Pulling a dirk, he yanked Jack's head back by her hair and placed the blade firmly against her throat.

"I know, I know," said Will, sounding as if she were in a soap commercial, "It looks like over kill- pardon the pun- but it gets the job done."

"Let him go," he fumed.

"You've still got a gun to my scanner's head."

"Let him go," he repeated.

Will produced a pair of titanium cuffs, "Put these on, don't make a fuss."

"Let her go!" he commanded, his temperature rising. He bit down, hard, on the inside of his bottom lip as soon as the words flew from his mouth.

Will rested her hands on her hips, "Excuse me?"

"Let him go," he said, mumbling.

She shook her head, "No, no. That's not what you said."

"Ho-ho," laughed Wake, squirming in his own skin, "Did he say what I think he said? Do we got our selves a little sheila parading around in bloke's clothing?"

Will strode away from Riddick, placing herself before Jack. She took the child's chin lightly in her fingers, tilting her head from side to side. Jack averted her eyes. "Look at me," Will demanded. She took out her gag. "Are you a girl?" she asked, no nonsense.

"Fuck you, Lady!"

Will gave an arrogant half smile to her crew members, "I do believe I don't give a damn. We'll know soon enough, any way. Little girls are easier to break." She snapped her fingers, then turned back to her target.

Mac took his blade from the girl's throat to the inside of her arm, pressing down until he drew blood. Jack was strong, she winced, but made no sound.

"Dose it do anything for you, Riddick? Seeing her bleed? With those goggles on, it's hard to tell if you care."

Fluidly, he pulled his firearm away from Dawn's forehead. "Leave the kid alone."

Will clapped her hands approvingly, "Look at that, you do care. Really. Nice going, Mac," she winked at him, "You pinned it." She tossed the cuffs to Riddick. "Put 'em on, Con."

Jack wriggled this way and that to no avail, "No, Riddick, don't," she pleaded, her voice surprisingly level.

"Sorry kid," he slapped one bracelet on, "This is the way it's gotta be." His hands went behind his back, but instead of securing the second ring, he armed himself with the same shiv he'd taken back from Jack. He lashed out at Dawn first, cleaving her forearm, forcing her to drop her gun.

Wake and Fuse changed aim, training their blasters on him.

"Shoot, idiots!" Will yelled, ducking for cover behind a book case. She pulled Jack with her, kicking and screaming. She had a gatgun stashed on one of the lower shelves. Will made sure it was ready before shoving Jack against the wall, "You stay right here. You move and I will track you down to the end of the universe, I swear I will. And when I find you you'll wish you'd never met the guy. Hell, you'll wish you'd never stepped foot off your home planet. Comprende?"

Fuse and Wake were firing like mad men, helter-skelter, not even coming close to their rapidly moving target. He rolled this way and that, steadily moving forward. In seconds he was on top of them. Panic made the men miss, point blank. Riddick grabbed Wake's hand, turning the merc's gun on his comrade before spilling his throat's blood with the knife. Gatback turned tail and ran.

Mac rushed to Dawn's side. Riddick spun around, striding towards them with power born of startled anger. Something slammed into his shoulder blades, throwing him of track. A tightly strung net encompassed him. His shiv went flying. He stumbled into the wall. Will, furious, kicked him as hard as she could. "There, you fuck! You just cost me half a well bread crew!"

He lunged at her, struggling with the woven ropes. He caught her, and they tumbled to the floor. Dawn retrieved her fallen weapon with her undamaged arm, and Mac jumped over the wrestling pair to pick up one of the blasters. They both took aim, but refused to fire. Riddick and Will were tumbling too hecticly, they could hit her.

Suddenly, Mac lurched backwards. His gun discharged, putting a clean hole in the ceiling. Jack had jumped on his back, throwing her tied wrists over his head. She pulled back as hard as she could, choking him. They fell backwards, his much bigger body smashing hers into the carpet.

This distracted Dawn. Riddick swept her legs out from under her. Now they were all down, grappling for dear life.

Jack strangled Mac until he was unconscious. She scrambled out from under him. She spotted the shiv. Scooping it up, she hurried to help Riddick. The sisters were clawing at him like wild animals. He rolled onto them, pinning the two as best he could. Jack sliced the net off his back, and he shook the pieces from his form. He held out his hand for the knife, which she obligingly dropped into his grasp.

"So which one goes first?" he asked calmly, waving the blade above their faces.

"Let Dawn go, and I'll-" she was cut off as the shiv slashed across her throat.

"No problem," he said to her as her life drained away, "And you only had to ask me once." He shoved the younger woman to her feet, "Get the hell outta here," he commanded.

They watched her gallop away before making a break for it themselves. They could hear commotion heading their way. The gun shots were drawing a concerned crowd. Riddick took Jack's hand, dragging her from the building.

"Knew they'd come for me," he muttered to himself.


End file.
